They were walking together through the park near Abby’s house. They weren’t holding hands, but instead were using their pockets for warmth. They had lasted as long as they could in the house, finishing up dessert, making small talk in the living room, praying for a meteor to strike the house. Abby managed to escape once to ‘tidy up the kitchen’ but that hadn’t taken long. There wasn’t much to tidy and she was afraid to leave Nick alone with her parents. She was back before Nick had been able to excuse himself and join her.
It wasn’t that the inquisition had continued. It wasn’t that Nick felt unwelcome. It wasn’t that he made mistakes or didn’t know the answers. It was that they didn’t DO ANYTHING!! They sat together in the living room and did nothing and said nothing. There wasn’t even a football game on to relieve the boredom. John had inquired politely if there was anything Nick wanted to watch, but Nick could see that ‘no, thank you’ was definitely the correct answer. Sharon read a book and John went over business papers. Nick had no book with him. He would never have a book with him. He didn’t read. Abby seemed distracted and sat on her end of the sofa staring into space.
“Would you like a magazine?” asked Sharon after Nick had recrossed his ankles for the third time in two minutes.
“Uh…no…thanks…I’m good…” said Nick, when he really meant ‘get me the hell out of here’. He was trying to remember. Had he and Abby ever set up that code word? He started trying to formulate ways to work CheesyWax into a sentence.
Sharon put her finger on the line that she had just read and looked at Nick over her reading glasses. “Have you read anything good lately?” The polite hostess who was interested in her guest.
“Yeah, Abby’s stories,” replied Nick without thinking.
“'Abby’s stor'…Abigail’s…what?” The mother who thought she knew everything caught unaware.
A sound from his left made Nick remember that the parents didn’t know about the stories. Like I didn’t have enough to remember on my own, he thought, I had to remember her stuff too! Well, too bad!
“Yeah…yes, Abby’s stories. She’s a wonderful writer,” he said. Let the chips fall where they may.
He didn’t know what he was expecting. Parents leaping to their feet, challenging their daughter for having hidden part of her life from them…Daddy whipping out a publishing contract…Mother questioning the seemliness of it all…What would people think? What he was not expecting was…
“You’re writing, Dear? That’s lovely.” The finger lifted off the page and the eyes went back to the book.
“You’ll have to show me those sometime, Honey.” One file folder set aside and another one opened.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” If Abby couldn’t come up with the code word, Nick sure as hell could.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“It’s starting to snow.”
Nick walked along, his thumb stroking the charm in his pocket. He couldn’t figure out what was happening. It had all been working out so well. He was having a good time and thought that he had been fitting in well with the parents. He and Abby had had a super time today. At least, he thought they had. They’d talked and laughed about everything and nothing. But she had been so quiet since dinner. And she had said nothing on the walk. That was kind of okay, because they had been fleeing conversation, after all. And he really didn’t have much left to say either. But…
The snowflakes drifted down…they were big, fat, fluffy ones, the kind that made you think winter wasn’t really such a bad thing after all…not the small, sleety blinding ones that blew in horizontally and made you believe that there really was a Mother Nature and she was pissed at something.
Abby watched the snowflakes fall, dropping onto their clothing and then melting away. She loved this kind of snow. Because it got so quiet. You couldn’t hear anything. It was as if the world watched in open-mouthed silent wonder. “Look,” she said simply and tipped her head back to gaze into the dark sky.
Nick followed her motion and moaned in delight. “It’s like the scene in Star Wars where they jumped to Hyperspace,” he said, watching the individual snowflakes develop tails of light and tumble past his peripheral vision.
They stood together with their faces turned to the sky, blinking the snowflakes off their eyelashes.
“Beautiful,” whispered Nick.
“Yes, they are,” answered Abby softly, starting to walk again.
“I didn’t mean the snowflakes,” said Nick to her back. “I meant your neck.”
Abby walked on, searching desperately for something to say. She hadn’t dealt with that many compliments in her life. She knew you weren’t supposed to argue with the person, say something like ‘oh, don’t be silly’. A simple ‘thank you’ might suffice but it didn’t sound right to her. She decided to pretend she hadn’t heard it.
“Look,” she said, after a moment, putting her hand on his arm. She pointed at a bench in the park. Perched on the back of it was a squirrel. It had something in its paws, but it was still. An old-fashioned street lamp cast a yellow glow over the bench and the thick, white flakes fluttered down in a golden-hued curtain.
“Too bad you don’t have your camera with you,” said Nick. “That would be a beautiful shot.”
They stood in silence and watched. The squirrel sat still for a few more moments and then turned and looked at them, as if to say, “Excuse me, but this is my bench.” Then the squirrel tucked the object from its paws into its cheek and scampered away.
“Looks like he’s got lunch for tomorrow,” laughed Nick.
Tomorrow.
It stretched out in front of him interminably. And to think, it was supposed to be the quiet day!! There was football in the afternoon, so that would be okay, he guessed. And Abby’s parents were going out to some party or something at night. Nick and Abby were staying home, so he figured they could just kick back in front of the TV. But what about the morning? Abby hadn’t said anything. It might be a long few hours between breakfast and lunch.
“So what’s up for tomorrow?” he ventured, as they neared the house. “Like, are there any plans…for the morning?”
“Um…no…nothing specific…is there anything you want to do?”
Get on a plane, thought Nick. My work here is done. He shrugged, “No…I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“Well, you’ve got football all afternoon. I’ll join you for some of that, but I might take some time out to write. Now that I’m out of the closet on that, I can do it when I want.”
“Yeah, uh…sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” laughed Abby.
Nick’s mood lifted. It was the first time she had laughed since dinner. “Are you okay?” asked Nick. “You’re a little quiet.”
Abby laughed again. “And I bet you thought I’d never shut up.” She raised a hand to stop his protest. “I’m kidding. I guess I was a little distracted. Sorry.”
“Thinking about your story, I guess,” said Nick.
Sure, good, let’s go with that, thought Abby. “Mmm…” she said enigmatically. “Well, here we are, back at Gestapo Headquarters.”
Nick looked at his watch. It was almost eleven. “Is it too early to go to bed?” he asked.
“No, it’s not,” said Abby, “and I guess it’s a long day for you. You’re probably used to sleeping in.”
“Nah, I usually have to get up for Luke. I like to get that out of the way early, so I can enjoy the day.”
“Well, that’s what we can do tomorrow morning then. I’ll dig out one of my old skipping ropes and put you through the paces. Who would you most like to use for the punching bag, my mother or my father?”
“Stop that,” admonished Nick with a grin.
They shook the snow from their shoulders and entered the front hall. They quietly removed their coats and hung them over the coat rack. Caps and gloves were placed on the radiator to dry. They tiptoed past the doorway to the living room.
“Did you lock up, Dear?”
“Yes, Mother,” said Abigail. She kept moving and waved Nick up the stairs.
“Were you warm enough last night?” asked Abigail, as they reached her door. “Do you need another blanket?”
“No, I was okay, but I’m telling you, I’m wearing my sweat pants tonight.”
“Okay,” said Abby. “Well, goodnight then.”
“What!? No hot chocolate?” Nick laughed.
“I can make you some hot chocolate if you’d like,” said Abby. “You big baby.”
“Goodnight, Abby,” he said, with a grin, and ran his index finger down the side of her face before turning for his own room.
Abby went into her sitting room and looked at her computer. Did she feel like writing? Because she could now, if she wanted to. She was ‘out of the closet’, thanks to Nick. She continued on into her bedroom. She thought about having a shower. She was a bit chilled from the walk. She took off all her clothes and put on her robe. Halfway to her bathroom, she had a thought about Lady Vera. She changed directions and went out to her sitting room. She scribbled a few lines down on her notepad. There! Now that thought couldn’t run away.
She put down the pen and stood thinking. She didn’t really feel like a shower, after all. Hot chocolate, that’s what she felt like.
She tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. The tile floor was cold and she bounced from one bare foot to the other as she waited for the milk to scald. She got two mugs from the cupboard and poured the creamy liquid in. She added two tiny marshmallows to Nick’s and went back upstairs.
Abby set her hot chocolate down by the computer and went up the hall. She tapped lightly on Nick’s door. “Nick?” she whispered into the door frame.
“Come on in,” he said. “I’m decent.”
Abby turned the handle and pushed the door open. She closed it behind her in case a stray parent wandered by. “I brought you hot chocolate,” she said, approaching the bed, from which only Nick’s head was visible. He had the blankets up to his throat. Abby set the mug carefully on the night stand next to a small lamp. “There you go. Do you want the light off?”
“Abby, your teeth are chattering.”
Abby wrapped her arms around herself. She was shivering. “I should have worn slippers,” she said. “The floor was cold.” She tried to stop her teeth from rattling together, but she couldn’t.
“Get in here,” said Nick, lifting up the covers.
“I’ll be okay,” said Abby.
“It’s okay. I’m wearing sweatpants. Get in here.” Nick grabbed her hand. “Your hands are frozen.”
Abby tugged her robe sash tight and crawled into the bed. She turned her back to Nick and he folded his arms around her. Abby tucked her hands into her armpits and willed herself to stop shivering.
Nick rubbed his feet against hers. “Your feet are like ice,” he said, and he gently massaged warmth back into them.
Abby lay in the cocoon of blankets, her head on the pillow, letting the warmth seep back into her body, enjoying the smell of Nick and the feel of his skin against hers. She thought this was maybe the best moment of her entire life and she didn’t want it to end.
Nick’s feet caressed hers in silence. Abby’s body stopped trembling from the cold, but still his feet moved against hers. The atmosphere shifted gradually and Nick wasn’t sure what to do next. He couldn’t see Abby’s face and she wasn’t making any sound. She was relaxed, though, didn’t seem tense. Nick stopped moving his feet. A wrong move here would be fatal. He waited for a sign from Abby.
He got it. After a few seconds, Abby moved, running the ball of her foot down his instep and then curling her toes around his.
Nick moved again and their feet played together in the silent room. Abby bit her lip to keep sound from coming out. She was successful until Nick tenderly lifted the hair away from her neck and put his mouth there instead. Then she moaned, a sound full of wanton desire.
She pushed her hips back against him, praying for a reaction. She got one. He moved his hips forward and she could feel his hardness.
Nick’s hand moved over her and reached into her robe, stroking her breast and playing with the nipple. Abby reached behind her and slipped her hand inside the sweat pants. She caressed him and fondled him.
Using some kind of telepathic communication, they moved at the same time, Abby onto her back, and Nick over her. He pulled at the sash of her robe and opened it. She pushed on his sweat pants until they were down over his butt and she could have free access to his erection. She caressed and kneaded him while he moved his long fingers over her centre and into her body. He put his mouth on her breast.
The movements got more frenzied. Abby wanted him inside her. She moved her hips toward him and tried to pull him gently to her.
“Shit!” The word burst from Nick. He threw his head back. His hand became still. “I don’t have any condoms,” he said, looking into Abby’s eyes.
“I don’t care,” she gasped, pumping him again.
“But I’ve never…”
“Me neither,” she panted, her eyes cloudy with lust.
He moved over her, placing himself at her opening. “You sure?” he whispered.
Abby nodded frantically. She shifted her hips upward and took him in. Nick pushed slowly into her and then he stopped.
Abby looked at his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open. The sensation was overwhelming him. Without the latex barrier, her warm, wet walls were a Garden of Eden to him. Abby squeezed her walls tight around him and he groaned. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her.
He started moving then, in and out, increasing his pace and his vigor until he crested the wave and poured his seed inside her. Abby moved along with him, hardly daring to breathe, in case she missed even one of the thousands of sensations flooding over her.
He collapsed upon her and they lay together panting. She pulled the blankets close over him so that his sweating back would not get cold. They lay together, united in ecstasy and spent passion, him with his sweatpants around his knees and her still in her robe, the sash dangling off the side of the bed.
After a few moments, Nick slipped out of her. Both of them whimpered when he did. There was an awkward moment of movement, getting things pulled up and tucked in, and soon they were laying together as they started, like spoons.
Abby lay on her side with her back to Nick, listening to his breathing change to the rhythm of sleep, feeling his sticky essence trickle down between her thighs and trying really hard not to mind too much that he hadn’t kissed her.
