Serene got up a little clumsily and made her way over to him. She held herself rigid, leaning away from his body. Steve placed his hands gently on the top of her shoulders. The muscles felt tense, like hard little blocks under the skin. He applied some pressure with the palms of his hands. Slowly, he moved them in a circular motion, starting near her neck and working his way out and back in again. After a minute, he could feel her begin to relax.
"What is this?" She mumbled in question of the next song that began to play.
“The Ocean,” Steve said.
"It's nice."
He worked his way down to her left shoulder blade, easing the edge of his hand under it, and found what he was looking for: a hard pebble-like thing. He pressed down hard with his thumb and Serene gasped, then let out a low moan of relief.
"There it is," he said under his breath.
"I can feel it all the way up into my eyeballs."
He laughed. "You always say that."
She moved closer to him as he applied a little more pressure. Steve closed his eyes, lulled by the music and a comfort he hadn't felt in years. This felt right. This was Serene. She continued to relax and her body leaned all the way against his, her back against his chest. He could smell her hair, slightly musky with a hint of vanilla. Steve opened his eyes and watched Serene's hands reach back toward him. He let her fingers entwine with his, a dreamlike feeling spreading as his heart rate increased. Serene shifted her body, her hands still clasped in his, and gazed at him from over her shoulder. She was beautiful. He held himself very still, hardly daring to breathe. Waiting. Her lips touched his and it was like a lit match being thrown over a field of dry grass. The rush of heat through his body was sudden and intense. He opened his mouth, moaning.
Serene unclasped their hands and turned fully around, her chest just grazing his. Steve wanted to gobble her up. His hands raced up and down her arms, but then he forced himself to slow down and administer the same gentle kisses back. Eyes. Cheeks. Chin. Sternum. Breasts. She unbuttoned her jeans and he helped her wiggle out of them. She sat before him in her shirt and lacy white underwear. Steve kissed her quivering belly and guided her back, kissing the triangle of fabric between her legs, inhaling her odor. They made love there on the sofa, and then he took her upstairs where they made love over and over.
He hadn't meant to be so cruel, to rub Tera's face in it.
He hadn't meant to sleep in.
The sound of the door opening woke him up, his eyes oddly crusty.
Serene slept on, the sleep of the dead.
Tera stood silent and pale, her freckles distinct patches of brown on her white face. He could hear Laird's footsteps. Tera let out a small cry before she closed the door. “Go downstairs,” she rasped to her son.
Steve sat up then and rubbed his eyes. His mouth felt dry and cracked, and when he brought his hands down, he stared perplexed at the dried brown blood under his nails. The sheets were covered in blood. It looked like someone had been bludgeoned. He stumbled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. “Christ,” he muttered to himself. He looked utterly gruesome, dried blood all over his body, caked in the corners of his mouth, in his eyebrows and hair. Dora had started her period last night and they had made love straight through it, undeterred. What a fucking sight they must look. He quickly washed his face and hands, grabbed his robe and hurried downstairs, but Tera was already gone.
52
Barbara March - 2020
Cuppa had outdone herself, Barbara thought as she took in the layout of food for their family dinner party. Spanakopita filled a white clay pan that sat next to the turquoise bowl of pesto pasta and a Mediterranean salad. On the stove was a cast iron skillet of halibut with butter, garlic and lemon sauce, and, for dessert, ramekins of coconut tapioca with a side of thinly sliced cantaloupe wedges. A cheese platter, wine and Gerolsteiner mineral water were placed prettily around a bouquet of roses on the dining room table. Brigitte Bardot radio played on Spotify, completing the ambiance. Jesse had been in charge of the flowers, arranging a variety of blooms into bouquets. He looked like an angelic flower girl in a light yellow embroidered lace dress, his mermaid blond hair flowing down his back, a wreath of pink carnations on his head. He'd painted his finger and toenails a light pink and persuaded Sara to wear similar attire, going for the twin look. Jesse had a thing about twins. If it were up to him, he and Sara would be in matching outfits all the time, but Sara's taste in clothes didn't run as feminine as his. Erica had donned an off-white linen long sleeve top and pants. Their head was newly shaved, and they’d put on red lipstick, a rare choice. Cuppa wore a Sanur Kaftan in tropical blue colors. And although the rest of the family had dressed like summer was already here, Barbara had donned a grey long sleeve sweater dress. Their mother's choice of jeans and t-shirt was automatically vetoed by Jesse, who herded her back to her bedroom, demanding she put on something nice. The other day she'd had her hair braided into small singles and the style made her look ten years younger, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and angular jaw. When she reemerged from the room, Barbara did a double take. Their mother looked hauntingly beautiful in a filmy black cold shoulder mini dress, the sleeves reaching just past her elbows. The outfit was completed with strappy black sandals.
"Tada," Jesse called out. "The new Dora. I mean Serene," he corrected himself.
Their mother smiled shyly
