Lisa Black smiled as she slowly woke, feeling her husband's chest against her bare back as he slept. Nearly thirty years of marriage hadn't taken away any of the love, and hadn't taken the edge off of the sex, either. The sun had not yet risen, but for every day of those twenty-odd years, she had reveled in doing the little things for him, through sickness and pregnancy, post-coital bliss and weariness, and breakfast was one of those little things. Smiling, she gently and regretfully pulled herself out from his arms, tossing on her favorite old bathrobe and slippers.
As she headed down the stairs, she grabbed her cell phone, only to find it angrily buzzing at her. The girls, except for Karyn, were all asleep down the hall, so she immediately checked to make sure it wasn't her eldest calling. It was instead someone from upstate; her husband's satellite office was there, so she recognized the area code.
Curious and not really thinking about what she was doing, she swiped the screen and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Lisa." A woman's voice. Firm, silky, certain. She felt a weird thrill go up her spine.
"Yes?" That came out with a bit of quiver. She felt detached from her body, compelled for some reason to keep speaking.
"It's me. Cheryl," the voice continued. She felt like her body was someone else's and like she was channeling a live current. What the Hell was going on?
"Who? I don't know a Cher--"
"The one who sent you, the one who sent you back, the one who told you to wait for my call," the voice responded.
For a brief instant, Lisa was not aroused and terrified and submissive and detached. She was simply cold. It had been over thirty years, but suddenly, she was standing before a doorway, terrified and uncertain and uncomfortable and --
"Listen carefully, dear Lisa," the voice interrupted her, yanking her back to the present, and she obeyed, gratefully and without hesitation. "Karyn has remembered and has the stone. You will be part of fixing it."
Everything else had been washed away in a wave of deliriously aroused and joyful obedience. She would help fix it.
--
She smiled at Michael. He was so handsome, so clever, and he was trying to find the words for whatever it was who cares he was smiling and suddenly he was on one knee
--
She was naked. She was naked and in a room she didn't recognize, filled with flowery things and posters of Duran Duran and Mister Mister and other bands she had mocked her mother for listening to
--
She was naked, and so was Michael, and he was kissing her, and she was kissing back, and one hand was gently massaging her right breast while the other was parting her legs, and she was wet and aching for him and she could feel the head of his penis against her ready to finally make her whole
--
*It was madness. She had no idea how to dress
(Yes she did)
She had no idea how to put on makeup
(Yes, in fact, she did)
She had no idea how to be a person she had not been mere moments ago
(It will come in time)*
--
*She looked at the stick in her hand and clinically noted how it shook. The stick or her hand?
It was happening. There was a plus where there had not been.
They'd wanted children so badly but she hadn't had any idea...
"Well?" His voice was so nervous, she was suddenly calm for him. She placed the stick on the floor, walked to the sink, washed her hands, led him back to the bed, kissed him deeply, and said, "Make love to the mother of your child."
And he did*
--
"Hey Mom!" Karyn said, fending off her husband's kisses for a moment. He liked to tease her this way when she was on the phone with her parents. "What--" A pause as she listened. Joseph took the opening to kiss her neck. "Sure! We'd love to come for dinner on Saturday." Joseph waggled his eyebrows and she mock pushed him away.
A few more minutes of chitchat. "I guess Mom was missing her oldest baby," she said.
"Speaking of babies..." Joseph responded, taking her hand and leading her back to the bedroom. She pretended to struggle, but not very much, and not very hard.
