Soundtrack: “Insects” by 10 Years

Warning: Simulated nudity.

Boredom is going to kill him, he’s sure of it. Kalen leans heavily on the cold metal fence, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he dispassionately watches Dana repeatedly gets rammed from behind. He can’t lie, he used to get a thrill from this; not so much the sex but the rush of pushing something dirty and illicit had made him feel so good… or at least it used to. Now, he’s standing outside watching two middle aged men get the only thrills of their lives outside of a new Star Trek collectible and counting down the seconds until one of them comes so he can warm his nuts up inside.

It’s the change of seasons working on him. He hates when summer fades into fall pulling the temperature below a reasonable 70 degrees. It never fails to remind him that if he was home – back West – he wouldn’t be freezing once it hits September, which always leads to why he left and his shitty parents and their shitty ultimatums then his shitty parenting skills and his soon to be fucked up kid.

The urge to kick something is strong and Kal stares at the back of his customer for a few long seconds, imaging what it would be like to take all his frustrations out on someone’s flesh. He snorts derisively, what he really needs is a shot of whiskey and a poker game to take the edge off.

Staccato grunts fill the air and pull his focus back to the man finding the end of his pleasure bare ass naked in the dirt. Kal is at once grateful for the reprieve. His thoughts are becoming all too real, too heavy and he’ll have to down a bottle of Jack before he gets back on the track, especially if his son’s mother starts swimming in his head.

Kalen moves quickly. He somewhat forcefully hands the man his pants and escorts him and his buddy to the side gate, making excuses about possible raids or undercover cops. He doesn’t care if the excuses are thin, he just wants to go inside and escape himself.

“What’s the rush, boss? Poor guy barely had a chance to get his pants on good.”

Dana smirks as she stretches, her long limbs arching to show off her body. He admires it openly, aware that she’s doing it for his pleasure before grabbing a robe and wrapping her in it. She’d been an easy pick, perfect body and right amount of exotic to draw the guys in.

“Need a drink.”

“Me too.” She slips an arm around his. “Who knew those two nerds could be so randy. I might have to re-think them in real life.”

He laughs along with her. “That’s if they can get pass your side job.”

“What? Every guy likes a girl who knows a few tricks.”

“Key word there: knows tricks, not turns them.”

Dana shrugs as he holds the door open for her. She doesn’t respond, simply tossing her sweaty hair out of her face before heading for the bathroom. He watches her for a moment, admiring the silent strength that all the girls share when facing the lascivious and knowing looks men shoot their way. He makes his way to the bar, avoiding gyrating bodies and fistfuls of money waving in the air. Travis has his shot waiting for him and Kal smiles gratefully, eagerly swallowing the whiskey.

Without thinking he shifts so he can watch Chance dancing up close and personal with two customers. He watches as she holds onto the pole, bends at the waist and grinds her ass against one of the men’s groin. Something twists in his gut and Kal grips the shot glass tightly before dropping it in annoyance. He purposely thinks about Janice, her fucking note and his son crying alone in his crib to push away any thoughts of possessiveness. Women didn’t have a permanent place in his life anymore.

It’s 7am when he gets home. He’s tired, cranky and in need of a good lay. Maybe he shouldn’t have insisted Chance go home but he needs to get her out of his system. A sudden noise from the garage grabs his attention and he rushes inside, almost trampling over Taj in the process. He’s instantly pissed.

“What are you doing in here? I’ve told you a dozen times to stay out of here! Did you touch anything?” Kalen yanks him up by his shirt, easily lifting his son into his arms. He’s careful with Taj despite his temper. He might be a shitty dad but he’s not an abusive one.

“No, Baba.”

“Why are you out here anyway? Tristen should be making you breakfast.” He heads out the door with only a slight glance at his newest toy.

“She left.”

That gets through to Kal and he stops. “She left?”

“You’re late…again.”

He scoffs, continuing their trek into the house. “That girl acts like she doesn’t get paid. All she has to do is make dinner and put you to bed but she still bitches.”

Kal leans over to put the kid down in the kitchen, his eyes dropping a bit at the prospect of falling into his bed but Taj clings to him, little arms and legs holding on tight. He wants to sigh because he can sense the familiar knife of guilt hovering over him. He could do better, he could do much better.

“What are you going to do today?” He feels the shrug and this time does sigh. “You could go to the park.”

He shakes his head without looking up.

“Why not? You love that park.”

His response is muffled. “The mommies always stare at me…’cause I’m by myself.”

Kal doesn’t stagger, he doesn’t even stumble. Somehow he makes it up the spiral stairs to his bedroom and drops his son onto the bed. He can feel the weight of those eyes, perfectly grey like his mother’s, and turns to avoid the obvious question in them. Where’s my mommy? He’s so tired of that question haunting him. He didn’t know, didn’t care and they were the better for it.

“Come on, let’s take a nap. When we wake up it won’t be so bad.”

Kal wakes up later alone in bed and lies still for a moment trying to figure out why there was so much noise in his house. The kid usually knows better, having been on the receiving end of too many my-sleep-is-precious speeches to act up. He hears Sarabeth’s shriek of laughter and remembers that he invited all the girls over so they could relax and discuss a bit of business.

It only takes him 10 minutes to get ready and he brushes tangles out of his hair while attempting to pull a shirt over his head. He briefly contemplates getting a haircut, something more manageable, but a memory long buried of being 14 with unevenly hacked hair gifted to him in his sleep by a pissed off father bubbles up and he bares his teeth in a mockery of a smile before pulling it tightly into a ponytail.

Kal isn’t surprised when he gets downstairs to see a party in full swing, the girls all dancing around the kid and the door wide open to reveal a keg they somehow got up the stairs. He doesn’t ask questions, simply slipping into the group and dancing to their catcalls.

He dances close to Sarabeth, sharing a mischievous smile with her as they dance along to some popular rap song. He pulls her close suddenly, staring into brown eyes inky and dark like his own before kissing her on the cheek. She dances away from him with a laugh, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.

“You trying to get me in trouble, jefe? La pelirroja can be very possessive.”

Kal shrugs, ignoring the glare Chance shoots their way. He really shouldn’t mess up the dynamic with the girls; they got along pretty well despite the competitive nature of their job but he’s never did like imposing rules on himself. He likes Sarabeth; she’s bubbly and fun with just the right amount of fire. He’d never think about there being anything more between the two of them besides whatever happened in his bedroom because she wouldn’t let him. She knew how to keep things in their proper categories just like he does.

“If she’s more invested than I am, that’s her problem.” The lie feels good and he gives himself a silent reminder to repeat it often.

Sarabeth stops dancing and stares for a moment before busting out a deep belly laugh. The other girls stop and turn to look at them.

“What’s so damn funny?” Chance asks, brushing her fringe out of her face.

She walks away from him with a smile, tugging Taj along with her. “Oh, nothing.”

Tae and Dana smirk at him before resuming their conversation. The music is loud so he can’t hear what they’re saying but he can only imagine what jokes they’re setting up to hit him with for the rest of the week. The phone rings and he edges around Chance who refuses to move out of his way. He knows she’s trying to assert her position in his life but he ignores her. Her place in his life wasn’t real and it’s obvious he’s kept her in his bed for too long.

Kal leans against the brick wall, keeping his back to Chance. ““Hello?”

“Kal?”

He almost drops the phone. He’s never believed in movie moments where the sound drops away and everything focuses in on a single pinpoint but damn if that isn’t how he feels. He shakes his head hard to clear the sudden fog. “Janice?”

‘Of course, you asshole! Where are you and where’s my son?”

Kal shoves himself away from the wall and storms into the kitchen. He can feel them watching him, sensing his mood change but he doesn’t care. He needs to rage, would give anything to have her here in front of him just for a second. He can picture her perfectly, blonde hair in a bun and disdain on her face. The sour taste of bile sits in his throat.

“What do you mean where’s your son? With his father like you left him!” His voice is sharp, adrenaline making his nerves raw. “How’d you even get this number?”

“That’s all you can say? I want to know where my son is Kalen and I want to know now. How could you move without saying anything?”

“The same way you could leave without saying anything, Janice. Did you even look back when you left or was the lure of Daddy’s money too tempting?”

“I warned you Kal, you never listened. You’re lucky I even left him with you.”

Her venom brings his calm back and he leans against the counter, feeling in control.

“We both know that wasn’t going to happen. Daddy wouldn’t welcome his wayward whore back with her half-breed son now would he?”

Her silence is the only answer he needs and a vague echo of remembered hurt hit him in the heart. She’d been his partner in crime, laughing it up when his parents kicked him out and her Daddy said his kind wasn’t welcome on his land. They’d gotten through the shock her pregnancy and they were convinced they would be mediocre parents together. If he still wanted her he wouldn’t be able to say it; it’d taken him a long time to even acknowledge it but what did it matter now, she walked out and he was the better for it.

“Don’t strain yourself trying to come up with an answer babe.”

“Listen, you bastard, I want to see my son and I want to see him soon so tell me where you are!”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You can’t tell me no, I’m his mother! I gained 30 lbs. for him and spend 15 hellish hours in labor to have him!”

“No, you’re not. You’re the stray animal that gave birth to him and walked away. I’m his Baba, I make the rules and I’m telling you no. I want you to remember no every moment of every day for the rest of your life because I rather see him dead that for you to get a glimpse of him again. He doesn’t need you anymore.”

Her gasp of pain signals his jab and if Kal wasn’t aware of the roomful of people warily watching him he would dance to his victory.

“He’s four-“

“Yea, well when his mother goes back in time to the moment when she had a choice to do the right thing and actually does it then I could change my mind but until then good fucking luck finding us.”

Kal stabs the end button, calmly placing the phone on the counter. He doesn’t actually feel calm but he can’t risk baring his internal struggle, instead he reaches into the fridge and grabs a beer. The smirk on his face is fake but there wasn’t one person among them who would notice so he’s keeps the happy persona up.

“I thought we were dancing.”

It’s late when he gets a chance to go downstairs and play with his new toy. He doesn’t really want to but he needs something to take the edge off the frustration that’s been simmering all day. Usually some beers and a good lay would help but despite indulging his vices, her voice continued to ring in his ears coloring his emotions.

Kal turns the crank forcefully, enjoying the whine of the machine as it printed the illicit money. He doesn’t need more money but it was fun to play with and he had an easy place to launder the stuff if he needs to. The constant groans help to drown out his last memories of her but he knows a shot of his favorite whiskey would be better.  Sometimes he can still remember the softness of her skin, the way she loved to wrap her legs around his waist and hold him tight but every time he attempts to take refuge in those memories her most cutting words slice through them. My Daddy was right.

He stares at inked stained hands for a moment, remembering when they were clean and neat and used to playing chess and working with delicate wirings of prototypes. They’d been hands that hadn’t lived, belonging to a boy that had only known someone else’s label of him: IQ of 157. Kal scoffs, slowing working the machine again. Nobodies’ daddies were right about him, not anymore; least of all some old racist hick he could run mental rings around.

He doesn’t notice it at first, too wrapped up in his internal dialogue but it cuts through quickly and he knows he’s screwed. The blue and red lights dance through the crack in the door and light up the wall, letting him know long before the officer actually bursts through the door what he’s in for. The primal part of him wants him to scramble, to search for a way out but he’d be damned if he acts that uncool.

He’s already turned towards the wall with his hands behind his back when she runs in.

“Freeze!”

Keeping the smirk off his face is hard and Kal turns his head slightly to get a glimpse of her face. He’s actually kind of shocked by how pretty she looks with her long hair down in that unflattering uniform. “I’m way ahead of you officer.”

“I suggest you be quiet. Kalen Behar, you are under arrest for counterfeiting money and have the right to remain silent.”

He tunes out the rest of what she’s saying, focusing instead on the chill of the steel around his wrists. He hasn’t been arrested in several years but the confinement of handcuffs he’d never forget. He wants to know which one of his neighbors tipped the cops off and how they even find out he had the machine but it’s not a pressing concern. His main worry is Taj and what the hell they were going to do with his. Kal isn’t surprised to see Chance and Taj outside the house along with a few nosy neighbors, the damn sirens must have woken them up.

“You have a child here, sir?”

He doesn’t want to answer because he knows the next step in this process. Once they find out Chance wasn’t his mother his kid would disappear into some hell hole, or worse they’d find his mother and he really won’t get him back.

“Yes.”

“Is this his mother?”

The desire to lie is strong and the way Chance is cuddling his boy to her he can almost believe it. He almost feels bad for his behavior earlier. “No.”

He can feel the weight of guilt pressing onto him, suffocating him in the tight space of the police car. Taj stares at him without tears and he wonders if he’s done that to him – taught him not to cry. Kal wants to tell him everything will be ok like earlier, that he will be gone only a few hours then they both could go home but he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything for sure anymore  and he’s scared.

===========================

A.N: Another super long one and I’m sorry but it just kept going and going. I mentioned this on Twitter but I do love writing Kal. He’s just so different from everyone else! He’s blows so hot and cold as an actual Sim and then his traits just make him all over the place. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go there with Janice and why she left but it was an idea that stuck with me and got wrapped up in her character and their storyline then it swirled into Kalen’s psyche and how often things actually affect him and how deeply.

So yea, his arrest has some crazy consequences, thank you ROS that I rolled a million years ago. (I really do write too slow.) You’ll get a mini peek at some of that in the next update which will be the school update. Yay for the kiddies.

Anyway, I hope you like it.

Nina is home alone with the children one chilly weekend when she feels the first signs that her new baby is coming into the world.

She manages to get the children organized, call Gregory and call a cab to the hospital in time to suffer the indignity of having her legs put in stirrups for the upcoming birth.

Introducing Olivia Wright!

This pretty girl is brown haired and green-eyed although I don’t feel guilty that I will be playing god and she will be turned into a red head.

People getting older:

Samuel Heredon: 33
Joaquin Valdez: 30
Fabrice Lemieux: 28
Arthur Heredon: 28
Kalen Behar: 26

Soundtrack: “I’ll Be Waiting” by Adele

Warning: A bit of simulated nudity and 2,500 words.

She never tells Gabriela that they still have this. She never tells her that she never worries whether he wants or needs her because every night when he creeps into bed, it’s like a storm sweeping her up and leaving her broken on the rocks. There is desperation to it, a sense of searching underneath the passion. She’s not a great thinker, she doesn’t like to spend a lot of time on introspection but when his lips dance across hers it makes her think about love, how anyone whose ever been in love could say they really understand it.

She sighs when he nips her lip then soothes it with his tongue. The path he makes down to her breasts inflame her and she wants more, she always wants more. She presses closer for his bites, offering up her flesh for his devotion but there isn’t a need. He stays close to her, always nestled within the cradle of her hips as if to make up for the long hours he spends away.

When he finally enters her she cries out sharply, the only sound that’s been made since the children went to sleep a few hours ago. She doesn’t mind the silence here; it’s the only time she can see that spark in him, the one that’s kept him strong for so long and is kept hidden. She peppers his face with kisses, clinging to him as he starts to move inside her. If only they could stay in this moment, if only they could stay right here.

Morning brings reality and Marie feels Arthur move away from her, the emotional stinging more than the physical. She watches him pull his pajama bottoms and a shirt on from under her lashes. He’s reserved again, nothing like the man who visits her during the night. She often wonders where he goes.

“Today’s a big day.” She attempts to keep it light, her emotions too raw from the conversation with Gabriela yesterday and the way he switches on and off. “I still can’t believe A.J starts kindergarten in a few short weeks.”

“Time does seem to sneak up on you.” Arthur runs a hand through his messy hair tousling it more. “I’m going to head into town after my shower so I can pick up a few things. When I get back I’ll put his gift together.”

Marie stands, slipping into her robe. “I’m still not sure I like it, it’s too high. What if he falls?”

Arthur shrugs. “Then he falls and he’ll have fun picking himself back up and doing it all over again. That boy isn’t scared of much.”

“He is a daredevil, isn’t he?” Her tone is wistful. “I wish they could stay this age forever, they’re all smiles, laughter and perfection. It wouldn’t be so bad to have another one.”

She shocks herself with that slip and knows he’s taken aback. It’s a private thought Marie’s been having for two or three months and not one she’d been ready to share.

“Babies aren’t band-aides, Marie.”

Arthur’s dismissal causes her flush in anger and embarrassment. “Then tell me what is because you can tell me what won’t fix things but never say what will.”

The lightness breaks with that one comment and she watches him retreat fully within himself. The kiss he gives her is perfunctory and on the cheek. She refuses to cry.

Marie doesn’t pay Arthur any attention until the party is underway and the guests are crowding their front lawn, much too busy baking cakes and getting food for the party ready. She barely recognizes him and doesn’t know how she missed such a dramatic change. He’s gotten a haircut, fully baring his trademark slightly pointed ears for the first time in years, and traded in his dusty overalls for low-lying jeans and a clean shirt. He looks amazing, so amazing that she stops and stares for a moment.

Arthur’s involved in his conversation with Joaquin and only turns to give her a small smile. She doesn’t mind, not really, because she likes that the two get along. They have similar interests and demeanor although Joaquin is better at the big gestures from what Gabriela’s told her. Her point is proven when Gabriela also stops near them with one of the twins and Joaquin immediately slides an arm around her waist, bringing her in close. She’s not too ashamed to admit to herself that she’s jealous.

“Hey Red, nice party you have here. It’s so very down on the farm.” John comments, drawing her away from the group and the mess her marriage has become.

Marie waves at him, hyper-aware of the all the little moments between them that most would never consider proper.

He smirks. “The silent treatment? Very interesting, never imagined that would go into effect but we’re all playing with new ground rules.

She scoffs in annoyance. ‘I’m not giving you the silent treatment, John. It’s my son’s birthday and I want everyone to have a good time despite everything.”

“No problem, every kid deserves a few good memories so they can say there were happy before mommy and daddy went bust.”

Marie ignores his dig, knowing that it’s directed more at himself than her. His wedding ring catches her attention because in the years they’ve known each other she’s only seen him wear a handful of times. “You’re wearing your ring.”

The words are blunt and John frowns while he looks at his own hand. He catches sight of his wife off to the side watching them quietly. “Like I said, new ground rules for everyone.”

She carefully avoided looking at Rachel. They used to have a good relationship, not great, but they got along well enough to spend a couple of hours together with just the children and not run out things to talk about. Rachel had steadily froze her out. They didn’t plan outings for the children together instead they used Arthur and John as go between for when the children wanted to go to the park or the beach together. Marie really couldn’t blame her but it hurt being shut out of her own family while John didn’t seem to suffer the same consequences.

It’s disgusting how well they get along, isn’t it?” John states before barking out a laugh.

Confused for a moment, she looks at him in bewilderment and he points to where Rachel and Arthur are standing side by side watching the children run screaming around the yard. Rachel gently bumps Arthur with her shoulder and they share a smile before he scoops Sarah into his arms. There’s an understanding there and Marie fights to not shove her sister-in-law away from her husband and into the pond.

“Oh, don’t look so worried, it’s not in their nature to sneak around…well not Arthur. Rachel has her moments. She can be a bit vindictive when she feels like it.”

Marie drifts around the party, stopping to talk with the few parents who decided to stick around for the screaming antics of their children and taking care of the kids’ needs. She watches A.J scramble up and down his giant jungle gym and can’t deny that her heart speeds up every time he decides to jump from the top instead of taking a safer route down. She just knows a trip to the hospital is in their future with that thing around.

Someone tugs on her sleeve and she turns to find her husband standing next to her, a slight grin on his face. She’s confused by the look in his eyes, the openness in his face and doesn’t know what to say.

“You look beautiful, bunny.”

She’s immediately clued in. Her normally reticent husband had indulged in the special adult only punch she had made. It wasn’t overt. His words are only slightly slurred and there isn’t any tell-tale swaying but that may have been a product of his natural stance. Marie ducks her head to hide her smile and sing-songs. “Someone’s had too much punch.”

Arthur moves closer and the heat of him draws Marie’s eyes away from the grass to his face. The stand there staring at each other, neither saying much but trying to figure each other out.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

He shrugs, movement that seems odd on a man who is always decisive. “You seemed to outgrow it.”

“I -” Marie stops herself and decides to skirt the heavy stuff, she just wanted to enjoy her son’s party. “Why did you drink so much of that punch? I warned everyone that it was potent, you should have known better.”

He seems a bit thrown at her teasing tone and she bites her lip, hoping he will play along. Arthur shrugs again. “You always want me so…exposed. It’s easier this way.”

She starts to protest but he grabs her hand quickly and pulls her towards the group of people dancing. “I like this song, we should dance to it.”

Marie allows herself to follow his lead, pretending that everything is fine instead of wallowing in the fact that not unlike Cinderella she too had to until a certain time before reality came back on the scene.

They don’t have another chance to talk alone until the candles are all blown out, the excess toys packed away into the barn and the children tucked into bed exhausted from the day. The moment Marie sees him sitting at the kitchen table she knows that he’s come down from whatever high had been driving him earlier.

She hesitates, a sudden fear that whatever conversation they have tonight will be the deciding factor in where they go from here. Is she strong enough to face whatever happened or did she just want to crawl into bed and put it off for another month or two?

Marie slides her hand across his chest, leaning in close enough to ghost her lips across his forehead. She spends a few moments simply breathing his scent, memorizing it if this is her last chance to get this close to him. “A, you have to give us a chance. Help me fix all of this.”

Arthur barely moves, merely shifting so that he can look at her under his lashes. “Did I make you happy?”

“You’ve always made me happy.”

He jerks away sharply and is across the room before she can stop him. Devastation is written on his face for a moment before he turns away, shielding his face.

“Don’t lie, I hate it when you lie.”

“How have I lied?’ She asks, walking over to him. “I have done everything to show you that this is where I want to be and that I’m sorry but you’re not even trying. I’m doing everything to bring this marriage back to life and you won’t give an inch. The farm can’t always come first. You have to think about the living, breathing people you share a home with. You can’t keep going back and forth, it hurts too much.”

She watches him come to some sort of decision, noting the way he plants his feet and stands up straighter. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your emotions, they’re too fickle.”

“How can you say that? I have loved since I was 16 years old! When we turned 18, I was the one who pushed for us to get married. I have always wanted you.”

“Until you wanted someone John. Until you wanted whoever it is out there that makes you so guilty that you’re moved to fix this marriage.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what’s changed? Months ago you were telling me how it won’t work anymore, now you’re everywhere I turn and I’m still plain ol’ Arthur.”

His words are bitter, his hazel eyes dark and all she can do is watch with her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth when he walks out the door. He doesn’t slam it. He never does, always aware that while they may be fighting their children are sleeping soundly upstairs.

Marie takes some time to compose herself before she follows him outside. She doesn’t enter the small orchard, aware that he uses the repetitive work to work through his thoughts. They stay like that for awhile, Marie watching his work and Arthur pretending he isn’t aware of her watching him, before she speaks.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You were this lanky giant with bright hair that seemed to by trying to hide and all I could think to myself was that boy is special and I want to know him for the rest of my life. I didn’t care about anything else but making that light shine a bit brighter, those shoulders stand a bit straighter, plus I wanted me a gaggle of red-headed babies.”

It’s and old joke but he doesn’t laugh like she wants him to and Marie sighs. She fights the urge to yell at him some more, to point out that here she is again trying and he just stands there silent. It won’t help, it never does.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, please.”

Arthur finally turns to look at her. “You can come in.”

She’s hesitant. She doesn’t spend a lot of time in the orchards, not like when they were newlyweds and she would drive over from their small apartment for a midday picnic under the protective shade from the leaves. They’d made love under those leaves dozens of time before he got to the idea to develop the farmer’s market and transplanted the majority of the trees to the new location. Marie had been upset when he’d moved the tree she’d carved their names into. It had died after the move, maybe she should have taken it as a sign.

“Arthur-”

“I’m ashamed that I can’t let you go. I should be able to. I told you before we got married that I wouldn’t make you happy, that it was beyond me and although you persisted I prepared myself for the eventuality. Only now that it’s here I can’t let go. You somehow became mine, the only person I had to prove anything to, but now you’re not happy and I don’t trust you. So everyday I spend more time picture you not there, picturing picking the kids up for the weekend because what other alternative is there? We can’t keep doing this: fighting during the day and making love at night.”

“Arthur, please.” Marie can’t stop the tears which started the moment he said ashamed. She wraps her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. She feels grief and shame because she’s done this to him despite knowing his issues. They had their issues but she only wanted to spur him into action not have everything crumble apart. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

Marie doesn’t know how long they stand like that surrounded by the sharp scent of citrus but she stumbles a bit when he steps away and pulls her by the hand toward the house. They settle on the steps, each wrapped in their own thoughts of their future and where they went from there. She gradually leans against him, taking his hand in hers and sighs in relief when he relaxes wrapping his long fingers around her own. She tries not to hope but maybe they could fix this, maybe they wouldn’t fail so completely.

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A.N: I hope this makes up for the fact that it’s late. I didn’t have internet for several days and the end half needed some serious editing although I’m still not sure about it. I really love that Adele song and felt it fit Marie’s mind frame pretty well.

I really don’t know what to do with these two. They go back and forth between ignoring each other especially Arthur then they will roll countless wants for each other and let’s not talk about ACR. That thing was constantly going off with them. It all makes their relationship very confusing for me to write. I do think they’re interesting together because in a way Marie is and was almost obsessive about him and Arthur grew up feeling very unwanted. How does a relationship survive when an obsession breaks, although I’m not sure it’s broken, and a person who is finally wanted gets shifted to the side briefly by the only person who’s needed them?

Yes, people that is how I think. Anyway, the Behars are up next so probably next Thursday and some picspam is going up on my tumblr: http://hcsimspeek.tumblr.com/

They used to do this together. She would wait patiently at the nursery door, watching Sarah dream her sweet little girl dreams and listening for the familiar creak of the old spiral staircase that signaled his arrival home. There was harmony to their movements. He would stand behind her, one arm around her waist and the other raised high to rest on the door frame. She would lean against him and breathe deeply, inhaling the unique mix of ocean salt and rich soil that so often clung to his clothes and skin. She would bring his hand up to place a kiss on his palm, fascinated by the layer of dirt that would cover him from elbow to wrist yet his hands were always meticulously clean.

Marie had expected things to change after their fight last October but not this. They argued; Arthur would stare silently, she would scream and cry but they always returned to this. She’d waited at the door for a half hour before realizing he wasn’t going to come but the tears didn’t start to fall until Sarah called out for him. Now she doesn’t wait and they have a new ritual. She enters the nursery humming and picks out Sarah’s afternoon clothes, something bright and pleasing to the eye. Arthur used to sing, his voice raspy and off key, but she can’t bear to do the same. Leaning over the crib Marie brushes Sarah’s still baby fine hair back from her face and gently wakes her.

“Pretty baby, wakey wakey.”

“Mama, I not a baby anymore.” Yawning, Sarah lifts her arms to be picked up. “I’m a big girl.”

She settles her onto her hips, attempting to ignore the ever changing weight and height of her youngest. “Are you sure? I think you’re still Mama’s little baby.”

“Nuh uh.” The pout is instantaneous and Sarah wiggles out her arms, shaking her head. “I’m a big girl. I get dressed all by myself.”

Marie doesn’t laugh, not even a chuckle when Sarah gets her head stuck in one of the shirt sleeves and struggles to get out. She learned her lesson the first time her daughter insisted on dressing herself; A simple giggle and she was left with a sassy three year old all afternoon.

“Mama, I’m ready.”

She does her best to ignore the backwards shirt, the mismatched shoes and focuses on the smile of satisfaction on Sarah’s face. “Perfect.”

They bide their time playing. Marie throws herself into a of game of peek – a – book with Sarah and occasionally congratulates A.J on whatever bubble he considers impressive enough to share with her.

The front door opens after a single knock and for a second she thinks it’s him standing in the door way, his face in shadows yet his hair blazing bright. Marie can almost see the smile on his face, one of the rare big ones that only shows up when their little family is all together. It’s only when he steps further into the doorway that she realizes it’s only Jacob. The hand that reached to smooth down her messy hair drops. She’s deflated.

“Hey Mrs. H, Big A sent me to bring the kids to the store. Are they ready?”

Marie’s smile is strained and she leans over to kiss Sarah’s forehead so he doesn’t see her eyes tear up with bitter disappointment. “Mmmhm, have fun with Daddy, Jacob and Mr. Quinn kids.”

The house always feels empty when she’s home alone now. She used to enjoy the quiet moments when Arthur would take their children to the store and she could spend time reading a frilly romance novel about busty heroines and their arrogant lovers. It was all great fun when her marriage was solid and she could work off all those heightened feelings on her husband and some light flirtation with her brother-in-law but that’s what got her in this mess.

Marie’s not even aware she’s on the phone and dialing until the accented hello answers from the other end.

“Are you busy? I really need someone to talk to right now.”

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea and picking at the strawberry filled pastry. She’s embarrassed now and can’t figure out how to broach the topic despite it being one that they’ve discussed numerous times before. Anticipation hangs in the air and she can feel the weight of Gabriela’s expectation.

“I picked some strawberries for you yesterday. I may have gone a little overboard but they’re from our personal garden and we can only eat so many. I made the pastries with them.”

“Oh, gracias. I’m sure Joaquin and the girls will enjoy them.”

They lapse back into the silence and she tries to ignore the repetitive way Gabriela is stirring her spoon around the mug. Marie can tell her friend is getting annoyed with the production of the whole thing.

“He’s trying to punish me and it’s not fair.”

Gabriela cocks her head to the side and simply stares. They’ve gotten close enough over the past year with work and the girls’ many play-dates that Marie knows just by looking at her that Gabriela is searching for the right words for something that she considers indelicate.

“Mi mama would often say this to her friends when they came crying to her over some mess they made. I used to think it was harsh but Marie aquellos polvos traen estos lodos.”

“Um,” She stares at the ceiling, attempting to parse through what little high school Spanish she remembers. “Something about mud-”

“Your chickens have come home to roost.”

Her face flushes at the thought of being criticized and she shakes her head in anger. “Gabi, that’s not fair; it was a harmless flirtation. He spends so much time at the store he barely remembers he has children let alone a wife.”

“It’s his brother Marie, what did you expect to happen?”

They’re silent again. The typical summer sounds of crickets chirping outside, the distant screams of children playing flare up and they simply look at each other. Marie looks down into her cup of tea watching the few tea leaves settled at the bottom, hoping they would send her an answer.

She knew what would happen but she did it anyway. She’s just tired of it all. She wanted what she read in her books and John was just so romantic while Arthur could be sweet but didn’t get the point of it all. He wanted her. Marie was sure he loved her but he never put any effort into the gestures. She’d given up everything for him, simply to be with him and he could never be bothered with the simplest things.

Gabriela speaks softly, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Marie, miel, it’s ok to make a mistake-”

“I didn’t make a mistake and even if I did, why can’t he just forgive me? We’ve been doing this dance for months and I’ve been trying everything. I love him not John, not anyone else so why can’t he forgive me?”

“Marie-”

“I have done everything. You said make our marriage new again, so I try to spend as much time with him as possible. He hates that. The self-help books say give him space, so I go to the gym or take the kids out but then he looks at me with suspicion. He won’t budge at all. I thought he wasn’t around before but unless I’m forcing myself on him – that’s how he makes me feel – I just feel him sneak into bed and in the morning he disappears again. I didn’t actually have an affair. I never kissed him or touched him but Arthur’s antics makes me wish I did.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him that.” Gabriela retorts.

“Of course not but he won’t fight for me. He just gave up.”

“Do you want to save your marriage? You say you do but there is so much anger, Marie.”

Marie wraps her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the August heat. She watches as Gabriela plays with the rosary around her neck and can feel the weight of every accusation she ever flung at him, every heated word sharpened to cause the most damage. Why does she do things like that? She never used to. All she wants is to capture that lightness they had when they were younger, the happiness she remembers in some distant way every time she sees Joaquin and Gabriela interact. Sometimes they get so close but then the silence creeps in, the feeling of abandonment bubbles up and she hates herself for doing what she promised she would never do: waiting for a man to grace her with his presence.

Gabriela continues, “Maybe he doesn’t know what he’s fighting for anymore.”

The tears well up now and Marie is holding herself so tightly her scalp is starting to ache from the tugging on her hair. All the brashness from earlier is gone, leaving her deflated and she barely speaks over a whisper. “I’ve tried. Sometimes I want more and sometimes I just want him. Some days he’s all I can see and I realize that that’s stupid. I’m a grown woman with children and a career and all I can worry about is if my man is going to come home and look at me, just look at me.”

“Marie-”  She stops then shakes her head before starting again. “You have to figure it out. Hang on desperately if he’s really what you want but let him go if you don’t. I know what you say and I remember what we talk about but you are the one in control. Miel, he’s waiting for you. He needs you or he would have left months ago.”

==================

A.N: Yea, I know. It’s been a very long time but hopefully I’ve gotten over my intense writer’s block and a six months drought won’t happen again. I did learn some interesting things while I was away though. Part two should be up on Monday.

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Soundtrack: “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone.

A.N: Long, almost 4,000 words long but I added pages so it should make it easier to read.

Dina hadn’t expected him to believe her, not simply on her word alone. She expected him to stutter and stumble his way through questions before dismissing her from his office to make a hasty phone call to Nina. She hadn’t expected his eyes to narrow in concentration and to feel the heavy weight of his gaze assessing her, taking in the shape of her face, the curve of her lips and the arch of her brow. He nodded his head, stood taller and Dina had thought maybe there was something to this man her sister had married. He hesitated only once before settling on whatever decision he’d made. “Do you have dinner plans tonight?”

She couldn’t agree to dinner quick enough and now her heart beats faster the closer she gets to the front door. Their home is impressive like all the houses in the Warehouse District, a modern blend of brick and glass, and her stomach tightens with anticipation and jealousy. She passes homes like it every day on her walk home and aches each time to pull a key out of her purse and walk inside. She can see the opulence through the floor to ceiling windows and can only imagine what it would feel like to sit on something hand crafted and covered in silk or get to pluck away at the exquisite baby grand piano. Dina knows her sister – seven years couldn’t change her that much – and she knows that this house is filled with the best money could buy.

Dina rings the doorbell and runs her hands nervously down her dress. She feels too messy for this, her beauty slightly diminished by a day of work, but it can’t be helped. She just wants her life back. She wants luxury and opulence and isn’t ashamed to admit that it’s an obsession of hers. Maybe she’ll get an apartment in the Historic District or an ultra sleek townhouse in the Warehouse District near the pier out of this whole thing. Dina shrugs and smiles prettily at Gregory when he opens the door, her mind already working on ways to charm her brother-in-law.

“Hi, I’m not late am I?”

His smile is kind but cautious and he steps back to allow her entry to the hallway, arms carefully cradling a sleepy toddler. ‘Not at all. We tend to eat dinner a bit late, a holdover from that year we lived in Paris I guess.”

Her smile wavers at that news, jealousy nearly pushing her to confront her sister immediately at the injustice of it all. She struggles to reign in her temper but she’s never been good at tempering her whims. Dina shakes her head in annoyance and notices Gregory staring at her openly. A man adoring her is nothing unusual but she loves the attention none the less. She preens subtlety under his gaze and wonders if he prefers blondes to redheads. She could feel embarrassed about the idea of flirting with her sister’s husband but why create stress lines? She’d only sample him, not take him outright.

Dina turns around to look at him again and is startled to see him staring at her intently but instead of the curious, flirtatious look she’s used to he appears frustrated. She’s lost for a moment and the sound of the maid taking out plates and moving pots briefly drowns out her ability to think. Maybe she should acknowledge the baby…

“He’s beautiful.” Her wave is vague and her arm drops heavily to her side.

He rubs his hand soothingly across sleeping toddler’s back, his expression softening as he focus shifts. “We think so. This is Reagan, our youngest. Our eldest, Alexa, is the one you can hear on the piano. You’re welcome to go into the dining room; Nina is just about done with dinner. I have to put him to bed.”

Dina can only nod mutely as he moves away from her, her thoughts reeling from the news that it’s her sister in the kitchen, not some maid and his downright dismissal of her. Men never disregard her; she’ll simply have to fix that later. Dina moves to walk into the living room where she could see a little girl playing on the baby grand piano while stealing glances at her but his words stop her cold

“I can’t believe I missed it.” She can’t bring herself to turn around and he continues quietly. “You look alike, you have similar voices, even your names match but — I mean, I’ve seen you around, glimpses here and there, but I couldn’t imagine this, not this.”

The silence hangs heavy between them, thick and cloying. Dina searches for something light to say, some joke that will push away the tension and show her as the bubbly lost sister not an interloper but she fails.

She’s shaken as she walks into the livingroom but quickly shoves the anxiety away, taking a moment to compose herself and ignore the knot of tension in her stomach. This is her moment and they’re trying to steal it from her with doubts and suspicions. She doesn’t care if he’s right to suspect, she won square and fair and that means she gets what she wants.

Bolstered by that thought Dina relaxes and assesses the furniture in the living room, her eyes darting from item to item in delight. There’s Italian silk covering hand carved furniture, original art and Persian rugs. There’s even a gilded bird-cage perched on the most divine end table. Oh God she wants it all! The whole thing is so right and perfect she could smack herself for not thinking of it before. Why did she even bother with those old men when she could have simply waited for Nina to get all this?

She moves closer to the piano, her fingers ghosting over the shiny black frame and a smile on her lips for the little girl who continues to stare at her. She’s about to introduce herself when Nina walks out of the kitchen, a steaming plate in her hand and a pensive look on her face that quickly turns into a scowl when she notices Dina. They stare at each other and she practically devour her sister with her eyes, attempting to catalogue every change that she can see.

Her hair is darker and her clothes are deliciously expensive but there is, unfortunately, fullness to Nina’s face and waistline that spoke of an overindulgence of rich food and one child too many. She really should have stopped after the girl. A hand lifting to her own trim waist, Dina realizes that her sister is in desperate need of her presence in her life. She wants to call out to her, she wants to run to her and put all this silliness behind them but she’s pinned by the hostility in eyes so much like hers. The knot coils tighter.

“Nin-” She cuts her off, wordlessly dismissing her to address the little girl still sitting at the piano yet not longer bothering to play.

“Alexa, honey, please wash you hands and come eat dinner.”

They watch the little girl run off to the bathroom, brown pigtails bouncing against her back. There isn’t an invitation for Dina but she rallies and smirks mockingly at her sister before moving to sit at the table.

Dina can hear the husband coming back downstairs and speaks quickly. “This whole I’m-so-mad-at-you-I-don’t-want-you-around act you have going on has to go. It’s not fun anymore. We can have so much fun now that I’m here. We’ll get you trimmed up, out the kitchen and spending some of that well-earned money.”

Dina laughs openly at her sister’s squeak of outrage and turns on a dazzling smile for her brother-in-law and niece as they join her at the dining table.

I’m going to share my Simlish copies of the menu as soon as I get a chance to do the sales shelves too. Hope you like it!

The Tesla one is missing because I seem incapable of counting and I was too lazy to start over. Source for the scientists and the others are from a Google search.

The Misc. set doesn’t have any writing on it but all the files are clearly labeled so you can pick and choose what you want. The majority of them are on the “Travelkeeper” mesh, two are on “Suspense” mesh and three are on the “Transcendence” Mesh.

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