Chapter 24

Sharon pulled her hair back into a pony tail, something she rarely did. It wasn't a hair style a woman of her age would get away with in public, but it was the most practical for the day of work she had planned. She smoothed down the front of her jeans, then headed up the stairs, through the living room and down the hall to her children's bedrooms. She passed by Brad's room and glanced into the emptiness. The bed hadn't been slept in, not that she was surprised. Just seeing his empty room raised her anxiety another level. Where was he? What was he doing? What was he going to do? She needed to see him, try to explain things so he could understand.

She tapped on Allison's door and pushed it open. A tangled mess of brown hair was the only visible part of her daughter, the rest burrowed in her covers.

"Rise and shine, Allison. I've got breakfast for you and then I need your help in the yard today."

"Mmrph."

Sharon smiled, feeling a small measure of happiness pierce the gloominess that was the Garner home. She loved her daughter dearly, regardless of the mess their lives were in. She crossed Allison's room and opened the drapes. The room immediately brightened.

"Ungh morphro bruuh."

"Cream of wheat and fruit, sweetie," Sharon replied, hoping she'd correctly interpreted the teenage morning utterances.

"Froo noo mrhh."

"I'll see you downstairs in five minutes," she said as she left Allison's room and crossed the hall, not even hesitating at Ben's closed door. "Benjamin, time to get up." She moved across his room and pulled the blinds open.

Ben stretched with a moan and pulled himself to sitting, putting his feet on the floor. "Morning, Mom." He scratched his head and yawned.

"I have breakfast for you downstairs and then I need you to go to Mrs. Ellison's to help her pull the boxes from her attic. She's having her yard sale tomorrow."

"I thought Brad was doing that."

"Brad ... didn't come home last night."

Ben harrumphed. "So don't come home Friday if you don't feel like working on Saturday. I get it."

Sharon turned to her youngest, ready to be firm. "Ben, I..."

"It's OK, Mom. I was teasing. You can count on me." He stood up and stretched again.

Sharon felt a lump in her throat and reached up and gently cupped his face. "I know, Ben," she said softly. "I've always been able to count on you." She reached up and gently touched the edges of his bruises. "How's your face?"

Ben shrugged. "It'll heal. I've had worse bruises from football, just not anywhere that is so visible. I'll be fine."

"Ben, I..." Sharon tried to swallow the lump. She felt suddenly ashamed. "I'm sorry about everything."

He looked down into his mom's eyes; she was touched by the love she saw in them. "I don't know what's going on, Mom. I don't know why you've not done anything about Allison or Abigail or Jack. I don't know why you haven't told Dad. But I trust you, you know? You must have a reason, even if I don't know what that is. I figure you'll tell me things when you think I need to know."

A tear dripped down Sharon's face. "I love you so much, son. Thank you for your trust." She sniffed and rubbed his arm. "Now, get a move on so you can go help Mrs. Ellison." She stepped out into the hallway. "You're down to 2 minutes, Allie," she called into the room across the hall, then quickly made her way outside, afraid of trying to face either of her children in her current state of turmoil.

"Eighteen ... nineteen ... twenty." Jack put the dumbbell down with a huff. He'd just completed his last set of curls and was really feeling it, his muscles pumped and burning. Lifting weights was Jack's outlet. He'd taken it up when he was last in juvie and used it now in place of alcohol and drugs. He thought he looked kind of weird with muscles, given that he'd been a pudgy kid for so long, but Abigail really seemed to like it. She often traced the lines of his muscles with her fingers before, during or after they made love. Allison seemed to respond in a similar fashion, but she was more subtle about it, usually just stares or tiny sounds of contentment when he'd walk across a room or lift her into his arms.

Jack put his weights away and hopped in the shower. He had two separate study groups on campus today, so he figured he wouldn't be home until late afternoon. Then he could study for his other classes that evening. Maybe, just maybe he could get through this day without his sweet wife. He knew Saturday and Sunday would be the hardest days for him while she was gone, so he tried to think of things to do to pass the time. He planned to start packing stuff up on Sunday. He even toyed with the thought of going to church—something he hadn't done very often in his life—but decided against it. He wasn't opposed to church, per se. He believed in God and redemption and all that, but he just couldn't stand the hypocrisy he saw there. Not those imperfect humans who embraced their weaknesses as a way of conquering them. They weren't hypocrites. It was those self-righteous bastards who liked to think they were perfect, and treated all the other "lesser mortals" with contempt and disdain. Jack preferred to worship in his own way, instead. Some of his most spiritual moments had come outside, out in nature, surrounding by the beautiful canvas God had placed him in. That was where he preferred to worship. Thus he decided that this Sunday evening would be spent enjoying the beautiful countryside.

By the time he stepped out of the shower, he was looking forward to a quiet, but fast, weekend.

Allison stopped her weeding to wipe the sweat from her face. It was brutally warm for being early May, and she was feeling it. She looked across the lush lawn at her mother, bent over unruly rose bushes, clipping here and there.

Sharon loved to work in the yard, and Allison knew that she wanted her children to have the same love of the outdoors as she did. Being a typical obstinate teen, Allison could never openly admit to enjoying the yardwork, but the reality was ... she did. From the time she was little, she used to love coming outside to help her mom and Abigail in the yard, weeding, digging, planting, watering, pruning. Anything they asked her to do. Part of it was probably just to be in their presence, to bask in the togetherness of it all. However, another part of her really enjoyed seeing the fruits of their labors. And the end result of Sharon's labors in their yard was magnificent. She had wonderful, fragrant flower beds and shrubs and flowering fruit trees. Cherry, peach, pear and crab apple. The jewel of the yard, though, was a gorgeous weeping mulberry tree that Sharon lovingly pruned and pampered.

Reliving these memories sent a pang of sadness through Allison. The simpler time seemed so long ago. How innocent she had been, how sheltered. How blind. She looked again at her mother, who was standing up and stretching her back out.

"Mom?" Allison called across the small expanse of greenspace.

Sharon turned towards Allison and used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Those rosebushes look beautiful. Everything in this yard looks beautiful. You've done a great job."

Sharon seemed startled by the sudden, unexpected praise. "Why ... why thank you, Allie. You and Abigail and Ben have always been a big help, though." Sharon was walking towards her now. "This isn't just my yard." She stopped a few feet away from Allison and looked down at her daughter's work.

"I know. But when you put your mind to something, it always seems to turn out so beautifully. Your dinner parties, your sewing, your garden." Sharon beamed at the praise. Allison batted her eyelashes innocently. "Your wonderful, beautiful children."

To Allison's surprise, her mother's smile faltered. "Yes, well. I ... I try. I've always tried to ... do my best with whatever I do, but it doesn't always end up quite as nicely as I wanted." Allison watched as a cloud seemed to cross her mother's face. "For instance, I've never been able to keep a pet for more than a few months. They either die or ... or run away." Allison stood when Sharon face contorted in some form of agony.

"Mom..." she said reaching out to her.

Sharon took a deep breath and her face seemed clear. "Well, I do believe it's time to get lunch ready. Do you mind finishing up this bed before you come in?"

"Mom..." Allison was worried about her mother. She'd never seen such a horrific look on her face before.

Sharon patted Allison's shoulder and pasted a pained smile on her face. "Thank you, dear, for saying those nice things about me. I'll call you when lunch is ready."

With that she turned and disappeared into the house.

Abigail took a bite of her deli sandwich and watched the college students mill about the campus. She was sitting on a bench somewhere on the UW campus enjoying the pleasant day. It was sunny, with just a gentle breeze, and she was soaking it up. She closed her eyes and turned her face towards the sun and breeze. The ambience of the beautiful campus was enough to make her want to go back to school just so she could be a part of it. Well, almost. With Jack attending graduate school and being from out of state, that was all they could afford, even with student loans. And now was Jack's time. When he finished, she had no doubt he would land a good job. She was also sure he would embrace any desire she had to go back to school.

Abigail thought of her handsome man. Who would have ever thought that her project partner those years ago would become her soulmate? She recalled how, as they worked on the project, she would take a counterpoint to a particular ethical issue, knowing full well that he would get so riled up defending his position. She'd sit back and smile as he vehemently and eloquently argued the cause. As she became more and more enamored with him, she found his passion so fucking sexy. She knew, just from their study sessions, that he would be an incredible lover. Anyone that passionate about things had to be.

Jack had a heart of gold. He was angered by injustice, motivated by the underdog's plight, directed by the desire to see good prevail. Given his challenging life, she found it even more amazing that he was so optimistic in his views that one person can make a difference in the world, that something as seemingly innocuous as "more love" could change people for better. Abigail would have expected cynicism from someone with his life experiences.

And she was right. He was an incredible lover, transferring his passion, his love and his desire to make people's lives better right into the bedroom.

The first time had come out of nowhere. There was no slow buildup, either. No first date and then first kiss and so on. Their project sessions had become considerably more flirtatious as the semester drew on. She could feel the sexual tension mounting between them. However, it all remained platonic. As the semester was winding down, they got together with more frequency, but never did more than flirt. One evening she had been exceptionally playful, constantly playing devil's advocate to the ethical stance of their paper. He defended it gloriously, but she continued to jab. His passion for their position reached a fever pitch when he stopped mid rant. He blinked twice and eyed her. She was lounging in the corner of the couch, one leg stretched the length of the couch, the other tucked under that leg. He got a funny look on his face, and Abigail had to stifle a giggle.

"Why, Miss Garner, I do believe you've been baiting me," he said slowly. He stepped over towards her with a scowl on his face and leaned over her, putting one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the arm. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She felt a tingle in her sex as her pulse increased. His face was inches from hers. He continued to scowl at her. "I don't like to be played, Miss Garner."

That was it. She couldn't help it. She reached her hand behind his head and pulled it down hard, parting her lips just as his met hers. The passion he'd displayed moments before immediately transferred to the kiss. He reached down and scooped her up without breaking the kiss. When he entered her bedroom, he laid her down gently and hovered over her, his body resting between her legs. He broke the kiss and she lost herself in the depths of his eyes. Never once did the thought surface that this was going too fast. His passion consumed her as he searched her soul through her eyes. He moved down for another kiss and everything became a blur for her. His hands, his lips, his tongue were everywhere at once. Her body responded immediately, her nipples swollen and peaked under his touch, her face and chest flushed. He was gentle yet commanding in presence. She willingly gave him everything that night, reveling in the gloriousness of his lovemaking. When he pressed his manhood into her depths, she felt pure unbridled joy. She felt complete. There was no blood and very little pain—she'd ruptured her hymen years before on her own—and as he took her virginity that night, he also took her heart. They made love for hours, neither caring as her roommates came home for the night. When she awoke the next morning, she looked for guilt and shame, but there was none.

Abigail never looked back. There had been rocky times, but she always knew, from that first night, that she'd found her soulmate. Abigail counted herself blessed to have found such an incredible man, regardless of what her father seemed to think of him.

Just then a Frisbee landed at her feet, pulling her from her daydream. She bent over to pick it up as a guy ran up to retrieve it.

"Sorry about that. Got away from me, I guess," he said, smiling.

"No problem," she replied, handing the plastic disc to him. He continued to look at her, a pleasant expression on his face. She took a quick assessment of the young man. He was handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was smaller than Jack, but still fit and toned. He was wearing a pair of Birkenstocks and a t shirt and shorts.

She smiled at him as he continued to look her over. She almost wanted to laugh out loud. What a game men and women play, as if sizing up their prey. She waited patiently for his inevitable come on.

"I'm Seth," he said with his best smile.

Abigail continued to smile warmly at him. "Hi, Seth. I'm married." She placed her hand on her lap so her wedding ring was clearly visible. His smile momentarily faltered.

"So, is that a brush off, then?" he asked.

"I'm flattered at your interest in me, but yes, this is a brush off." She popped the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth and crumpled the wrapper. She stood up just as his playmate buddy jogged up. "Goodbye, boys."

As she walked away with an extra swing to her hips, she heard a low whistle and a "Hot damn..." She just smiled and shook her head.

It didn't take her long to get back to her car. In truth, it was definitely flattering when a guy expressed his interest. She knew she wasn't the most beautiful woman, but she also knew her curvaceous figure and large breasts made more than one man do a double take. She thought she was entirely too heavy, but that didn't seem to stop the admirers.

Abigail made her way across the Evergreen Floating Bridge, taking care to beat the rush hour traffic that plagued her the previous day. She soaked up the crisp air, oohed and ahhed over the majestic Mt. Rainier and just relaxed.

She took the exit that would lead to the apartment. True to her word, Mrs. Petrowski was out working in the yard. She looked up as Abigail pulled in, and then smiled.

"Ah, you come back, you come back."

Abigail smiled at her. "Yes. I'd like to take one more look at the apartment, if that's alright."

"Of course, follow me, follow me." Abigail found it amusing that the landlady often repeated herself. It gave her words an air of enthusiasm that was infectious.

As they walked up the stairs, Abigail noted that there were more cars in the parking lot than the day before, not a surprise since it was a Saturday.

"What can you tell me about the other tenants?" she asked the older woman.

"Evelyn and Mary live just next door. A nice couple, they are. They were our first tenants when we build the building 10 years ago. Mostly older folks or folks with older kids here, so it is very quiet. We have 11 apartments and all are wonderful, just wonderful." She said it with glowing pride, but without a hint of arrogance.

After another quick walkthrough of the apartment, Abigail sighed.

"We'll take it."

Mrs. Petrowski laughed and hugged Abigail tight, causing the younger woman to laugh in return.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Come down to the office and we sign the papers. You give me the money and I give you the key."

Mrs. Petrowski quickly headed out of the apartment. Abigail took one last look at the apartment.

Home, she thought. This is home.

Brad tried to focus on the music videos on the TV screen, but all he could see was Jack fucking his sister. Or Allison sucking on his cock. In every flashing image on the screen he saw Jack's sweaty ass. In every dim, dark corner of the screen, he saw Allison's lips stretched tight, her eyes glassy and wide. Muted grunts and moans of their sex drowned out the music. Instead of the grungy faces of the rockers, he saw Allison and Jack's contorted visages as they got off right there on his living room sofa. And then there was his mother's face that morning, contorted like theirs, but in his mind hers was marked with laughter, laughing at HIM.

He growled and rubbed his fists into his eyes.

"Dude, you're fucking depressing me," Adam mumbled to him from across the messy room.

"Sorry, man," Brad said with a sigh.

"Yeah, well, drown it with another drag, man." Adam held out the joint for him to take. Brad took another swig of his beer before taking the offered weed. Then he took a long, slow drag, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs. His fading buzz began to see new life. He sat back and let the drug do its thing.

Enjoy it while he could, then pass the misery off on someone else. Life was hell, and he shouldn't have to be there alone.

"So all in all it was a relaxing day, huh?" Jack asked the phone receiver.

"Yep. Got the apartment, saw the campus, now I'm going to soak in another bath."

"Hey, I know what happened last time you took a bath when I wasn't around."

Abigail was silent for a second, and when she spoke, her voice seemed deeper, more sultry. "If I recall, while I was diddling myself in the tub, you were making love to my little sister."

Jack smiled at the memory. So did his cock.

"Well, I'm not with your sister this time."

"No reason why YOU can't go diddle in the tub, big guy."

"Guys don't diddle."

"Oh, really? What do they do, then, when they have no woman present to take care of their carnal needs?"

"They jack off."

Abigail laughed. "That's so crude, Jack."

"And for me, it's a fitting description."

Abigail laughed harder. "God, I miss you, sweetie."

"Same here."

"You know what I'm going to think about when I get in the tub?"

"From the way you've been talking, I'm guessing furnishings for the apartment."

Another laugh. Jack loved hearing the musical sound of her laughter. His heart swelled.

"Yes, probably. But not at first."

"Oh, really? Care to enlighten me?"

"Mmm ... I'm going to imagine you are with me in the tub," she said, her voice dropping into that sultry tone again. "I'll lean my back against your chest. You're hard cock will be pressed into my back, your arms wrapped around me, your hands massaging my wet, soapy breasts."

Jack's penis began to rumble to life. "I see. Please, continue your narrative."

"My nipples will be hard, like little pebbles under your hands. You'll pinch and roll them while you kiss me so, so gently behind my ear, in that spot I love so much that gets me so hot."