Stay At Home Love
The shrill ring of the phone startled me. I'd been standing at the sink up to my elbows in lukewarm soapy water for almost an hour. The stack of dirty dishes didn't seem to have shrunk much but the clean dishes stacked on towels laid out over every available inch of cupboard space was impressive.
"Mom, it's for you yelled a voice from the basement."
I wiped one hand on the seat of my jeans before picking up the phone, "Hello," I answered with little enthusiasm expecting a salesperson.
"How's the most gorgeous wife in the world?" Asked the caller in a beautifully husky voice.
My heart skipped a beat then resumed its pace at a much faster rate. My breathing stopped as Adorable Hubby's voice brought to mind his amazing good looks and incredible prowess in the bedroom.
I couldn't think of a witty response, as usual his singularly intense interest in, 'little ol' me', left me wordless. Or, perhaps, it was spending day after day speaking toddler that left me unable to come up with a quick adult appropriate response. I spluttered stupidly wondering what on earth he was calling for at three in the afternoon.
"Did you need something?" I finally got out.
He chuckled delightedly at my bewilderment, "I'm just calling to say Happy Birthday to my best girl," his voice sang through the phone line.
"Oh, and don't make dinner." He added.
"Please don't remind me," I groaned.
"You know how I feel about attention on my birthdays". I remembered the silk funeral wreath my boys had given me for Mothers Day one year. Plus there was the painful realization that women seem to be age far more quickly then men.
"You know I can't do that, anyway my family and some of yours are sure to remember." He attempted to console me.
"Just don't go overboard," I sighed in resignation.
Two hours later, dishes done and put away, I was finishing wiping down the cupboards when the front door opened. I knew who it was before I looked, it was always that way for me, I could feel him before he ever entered the room. Now, if only I could work some timing into my awareness so that I could be showered, dressed in something presentable with my hair and make-up done before he actually came in the room.
I gazed with quickened breathing at his beautiful face, strong shoulders and belly as usual he was impeccably dressed in an un-ironed tan shirt, cleverly over washed jeans and scuffed loafers. I loved his looks; but, it was his smell that took my breath away and made my stomach turn somersaults. I breathed in the enticing scent, mmm, McDonald's cheeseburgers, fries, nuggets and orange drinks I guessed. My stomach confirmed it before he said, "Wow, you're amazing!" and pulled the bags out from behind his back.
"Happy Birthday" He said as he pulled me into his arms for a kiss.
"It's Mom's birthday, hey did you know it's Mom's birthday?" yelled our loquacious seven year old.
"I gotta tell the brothers it's Moms birthday, Oh and that it's McDonald's for dinner," he yelled to himself as he ran towards the basement stairs.
Momentarily alone, except for the dog, we kissed slowly savoring each others touch. He pulled me tight as the kiss intensified, "We'll save this present for later." he murmured. We shared a laugh at the ludicrous idea that we would actually have time to enjoy each other before we both collapsed in bed from exhaustion.
Ow! I picked up the toddler who was announcing his presence by biting my ankle. "I know what you're thinking." Said Adorable Hubby as he took the drooling toddler from me.
"You're thinking you can fall asleep in your highchair during dinner and keep Mom up all night". The toddler flashed a gap toothed grin at Adorable Hubby confirming the accuracy of his uncanny mind reading ability.
Four hours, 5 birthday well wishers, three football practices, one book report, four pages of math and a seventh grade vocabulary sheet later. I collapsed into the cushiest arm chair our family room had to offer. I was instantly covered by a seven year old, a four year old and fussy toddler, who whined, elbowed and occasionally bit for position until one by one they all dropped off to sleep. Adorable Hubby randomly yelled at the four older children to calm down and go to bed as he flipped mindlessly through educational TV shows.
Just as my eyes were closing and beloved sleep was reaching out to take me in it's tender arms. Adorable Hubby called out in his beautiful husky voice, "Hey, gorgeous don't forget about your birthday present". I turned my head, carefully so I wouldn't wake the children covering me, to see if he were serious. The crooked smile on his face assured me that he was.
"Feel free to carry a baby to bed," I suggested. He effortlessly lifted the four year old into his arms then took the seven year old by the hand and headed for the bedroom. I gazed down at our rosy cheeked, curly blond haired baby how could anything be more beautiful. I smiled into his closed eyes, glad he didn't bite in his sleep. As I balanced my sleeping baby, turned off TV's, lights, and tucked in covers my heart swelled with love.
Anticipation grew in me as I brushed my teeth and slipped into a naughty nightie, in the next room waiting on our rumpled king sized bed was a pile of unfolded clothes and the man who had changed me from a silly embarrassed girl into a powerful, passionate women with seven amazing sons and a dog. I moved gracefully into the bedroom and leapt to the end of bed efficiently tossing the laundry into a neat pile in the corner. I crouched at the foot of the bed growling throatily, my eyes locked with my mates. He rose to meet me, we came together kissing, groping wildly, rolling passionately amongst the crumpled sheets. We'd long ago learned to love madly and quickly so, as we separated to lie flushed with love, satiated and panting on the bed, the sleepy cry of, "Momma, MOMMA!" from the nursery only made us smile.
"Good night Gorgeous," he sighed sleepily.
"Good night Adorable Hubby," I said softly as I climbed out of bed in the soft glow of the night light.
There you have it the second and final chapter in Nightlight, My Life As A Vampire Novel.
Adorable Hubby wants you to know that my writing, the bedroom stuff anyway, is more than mere fiction it ascends to the genre of extreme fantasy.