Loneliness Trilogy Bundle Boxset (13 page)

This convinces her that I have made the right decision. She hugs me and cries a little herself. Then she gets right back to the business at hand. “Your older sister has to be your matron of honor. Now that she’s had the baby, she’s lost the extra weight. I can find a lovely dress that will go well with yours. What is Marcus wearing?”

“I guess he’s wearing a suit. I can ask him.”

“Please do. I’ll find a dress for myself. Your dad has a closet full of suits - a dark one will suit just fine. Now, your hair…since you’re pregnant, it’s gotten longer - and thicker!”

“Mum, I’m just going to have a trim and put my hair up in a loose French braid. There’s no sense in getting all fancy,” I reply, trying to forestall her plans.

She takes my hair in both of her hands and moves it this way and that as she figures.

“Yes, that will work. What about letting your sister plait it for you?”

“I was thinking of asking her, actually.”

“Right. Next - the meal. I was thinking of…”

“Mum, can we keep that simple? Foods that are too heavy still upset my tummy and that worries Marcus. Can we do a simple roast beef with potatoes, vegetables, salad and a small cake?”

“Roast beef. Would you be able to handle a Wellington?”

“That would be wonderful! Are you sure that won’t be too much for you?”

“Johanna, of course not! I’ll roast it the day before and refrigerate it. I’ll have it warming in the oven while we’re at your wedding. Then we can carve it. What time do you plan to have the ceremony for?”

“We were thinking about mid-day. It’s a Saturday, so everyone will be able to be there. Will you let me bring a large salad? Please?” I ask mum.

“If you’d like, yes. How many guests are we planning for? I need to know how much food to buy.”

“All of us, Marcus, his family, the band and their families. Perhaps a few other friends and their families, so…” I total the number of attendees on my fingers. “Around thirty people, including the children.”

“Well, thankfully it’s still warm out. We’ll rent tables and chairs and set up a lovely little reception in our back yard. Dad will have to have the gardener come round and clean the yard. I’ll tell him.”

“It’s at the end of August, so I hope the weather will cooperate,” I say. That time of the year can be iffy, weather-wise.

“Perfect! Now - your flat. What’s happening with that?”

“I’m giving my landlady notice today. I’ll move into Marcus’ flat after we’re married and that will give us two weeks to sort through everything and get it moved. His flat’s larger than mine and has a spare room that will become the baby’s nursery. We’re thinking of asking everyone to help. He’s told me I’m not to lift anything heavy. So that will limit me to sorting what’s going with me and what’s being tossed into the bin. I’ll be loading and taping boxes and that will be it.”

“I’m glad he told you that - you really shouldn’t lift anything of any weight,” mum said with one of her mum looks. “You do know that if you have more children after this one, you’ll have to move to a larger place, right?”

“Well, yes, of course. My earnings from the band will help considerably. He’s established an excellent career as a freelance writer and he has clients internationally now. We’re recording a CD that’s intended for international sales. I asked Tim if we could start that soon so that we could be finished before I go to hospital to have my baby,” I tell mum.

“So you may buy a house?”

“Yes. I don’t want to rent forever. And, as long as I don’t have to experience too much morning sickness, I’d love to give you and dad more grandbabies!”

Mum tears up at this. Flapping her hands, she sniffs loudly and says, “Well, I think we’re done with the planning.”

My cell phone rings. Raising my finger to mum, I answer.

“Johanna, its Tim. Just wanted to let you know that we’ve set the first recording session. I’m hoping it won’t interfere with your wedding. When is that?”

“Two weeks from this Saturday. Mum and I just finished all the planning. We’re having only thirty guests and we want to keep it as simple as possible,” I say.

“Good show! We start recording the following Tuesday. Are you and Marcus taking a honeymoon?”

“We want to wait a few weeks. He wants to honeymoon in Spain over the Christmas and Boxing Day holidays. Give us a chance at some sun.”

“Brilliant, I can schedule recording sessions around those times. What time is the wedding?”

“Noon. Reception is at my parents’ house in the back yard and everyone’s obviously invited for that. I’ll send out notes to everyone so they know.”

“We’ll send the kids with a child-minder. They’re a bit unpredictable still and I don’t want to ruin either event for you or Marcus,” Tim says decisively.

“Oh, bring them!”

“No. Remember that fit that Oliver had last year? The baby has learnt those behaviors. It won’t work. We’ll take them to the child-minder and they will be much happier with her,” Tim says.

I remember the tantrum only too well - Oliver had begun screaming at the top of his little lungs, dropped to the ground and kicked at the table and his parents’ legs. It took Tim to scoop him up and take him somewhere private to give him a good talking-to. Still, when they came back, Oliver was sniffling and obviously still very upset. They left shortly after because he wouldn’t come out of his mood.

“Oh, yes. What I have to look forward to…” I sigh.

Tim chuckles. “I don’t think so. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

I giggle. “From your mouth to God’s ears!”

I grab my planner and pencil in all the important dates - wedding and reception and, now, the first international CD recording session. Mum asks for those dates so she won’t plan anything that conflicts.

Our planning complete, mum gives me a huge hug and leaves, supposedly to begin carrying out our plans. I give a huge sigh of relief - social event planning is not my thing! Instead, I begin practicing the songs we are currently learning.

That evening, I am with Marcus when my sister calls, wanting to know the color of my wedding dress. We discuss possible colors for her dress and settle on a beautiful leaf-green, which will match her eyes beautifully. She agrees to help me with my hair.

“Get it trimmed and well-conditioned. In fact, you should condition it every week now you’re expecting. All those pregnancy hormones are contributing to your hair becoming thicker and growing faster. I’ll gladly do your hair! What about cosmetics?”

“Would you make my face up, too? I’ll be too trembly and I’m sure I’ll send eyeliner straight up my forehead,” I say.

My sister laughs. “I’d be happy to!”

After she hangs up, Marcus and I enjoy a quiet dinner and evening in. We talk about the wedding plans.

“Do you plan to wear a suit?” I ask him.

“Yes. Come, take a look,” he invites me. His suit is a beautiful medium-grey. With that, he plans to wear a lighter grey shirt and a silvery tie. I nearly swoon. He is going to look so…handsome!

“I’ll have my hair cut that week so it looks good,” he says.

“I’m sure the guys will all tie their hair back before they show up for the wedding. Tim says they’re hiring a child-minder for the kids - the baby has picked up on the effectiveness of Oliver’s tantrums.”

“Oy, thank God. My mum is a bit of a nervous woman and a child shrieking and carrying on would make it difficult for her,” Marcus says. “This is really going to be a wonderful wedding. Did Tim tell you about the first recording session?”

“Yes, he did! I’m scheduling everything in my planner so I have no conflicts. Mum asked me for those dates as well.”

“Let’s go to your flat and start identifying what you want to bring here. I’ll measure everything to make sure it fits. What do you want to do with your bed and armoire?”

“Can we put the armoire in the baby’s room? I think I’ll sell the bed. Other things, like my front room furniture and kitchen furniture, I’ll either sell or bring here. You don’t have a kitchen table, you know.”

“Yeah. I just eat in here while I’m working. I do like your table and chairs. Very antique-looking.”

“They are antiques. My grandparents willed them to me before they died, so I want to keep them with me.” We grab Marcus’ tape measure and head to my flat, where we go from room to room and measure all the furniture. I take small stickers and put them on the items I want to take to Marcus’ flat.

“You know, we’re going to need to buy a place,” I tell him.

“Yes, we will. Do you want to wait until after the baby is born? My place will hold three of us short-term, but beyond that…”

“I have savings, Marcus. Before the baby’s born, why don’t we start looking at houses for sale? Let’s look in neighborhoods with good schools. We’ll be able to afford something nice that will allow us to grow.”

“I have money saved as well. You do know that we’ll need to put down a set percentage for the down-payment, right?”

I nod. “We can talk about the money another time. Right now, I need a walk!”

Outside, we enjoy the gentle warmth of an English summer - so different from that of the southwestern U.S.! I raise my face to the sun’s rays and sigh. Marcus takes my hand in his and we walk several blocks from my flat. On the way back, I see storm clouds beginning to move over the city and we begin walking more quickly.

Too late. We’re still two blocks away from my flat when it starts raining, at first slowly, then more heavily. By the time I let us back into my flat, my maternity top is wet, so I change into pajamas. Sitting on the couch, Marcus rests his big hand gently on the small bulge that is my belly. I marvel that his hand is just the right size to cover our little one. As I look down on his hand, I feel tears prickling in my eyes. Marcus’ gesture feels so loving and protective. I nestle more closely into Marcus’ side and slowly, his fingers edge down until they are covering my clit and pussy. He begins rubbing my small, sensitive nubbin.

My eyes drift closed as I focus on the shimmering, warm sensation. I open my legs just slightly so he has room. I place my hand over the juncture of his legs and feel his shaft beginning to thicken and grow. Wanting to feel its response, I begin rubbing it then I encircle it with one hand. As our love play continues, we take each other’s clothing off and Marcus pulls the crocheted afghan from the back of my couch. Before laying me on my back, he slides the afghan on top of the couch cushion.

I wrap my arms around Marcus’ neck and kiss him deeply. Grabbing the hem of his sweater, I pull it off over his head, then begin working on the buckle of his belt and open the flap of his pants. My hand slides under the waistband of his boxers and I encircle that hot, throbbing shaft. Feeling its response, my pussy leaks and wets my thong. Marcus pulls my pajama top off over my head then begins working my pants and thong down my hips. Our arms tangle with each other as I try to shove his pants down his lean hips. I giggle as we struggle. Marcus looks down at my pregnant belly and shifts downward to kiss it. This gesture brings tears to my eyes - I’m so emotional these days! I run my fingers through his short, blond hair, wondering who our baby will look like.

I feel Marcus’ lips on my belly once again then he moves downward, until he’s kissing and sucking on my most private place. I inhale, feeling the strong, sharp sensation of arousal beginning to grow inside me. My legs fall apart, giving Marcus more room to lick and suck me. My hips begin to move almost involuntarily as my ever-ready arousal starts to overtake me. I feel my pussy walls beginning to throb more strongly and they convulse along with my hips and the rest of my body.

“Coming, Marcus! I’m…oh, my God!”

After I come, Marcus covers my body with his and slides his throbbing, thick swollen shaft into my willing body. He positions himself so that the tip of his penis rubs repeatedly against my G-spot. My body’s reactions and sighs push him to the edge and we experience our orgasms at the same moment. He spills his seed into me just as I fall over the waterfall of sensation. We both moan repeatedly into each other’s ears. And, as Marcus’ hand protectively covers my belly, I begin to cry all over again.

Marcus picks up our clothing then lifts me into his arms. In my room, I pull the covers back so we can slide under the warmth of the blankets. The nights are beginning to grow cooler as autumn approaches.

The day before my wedding, I receive an email from Tim:

To: Johanna

From: Tim

Subject: Recording

To all, we are set to begin recording Tuesday next. Be at the High Street recording studio by no later than 9 a.m. We’ll warm up, then begin recording. I’ve booked the studio until 5 p.m.

Also, don’t forget to be at Johanna’s and Marcus’ wedding tomorrow. She, her family, Marcus and his family have all planned what’s likely to be a beautiful day. Let’s enjoy the last of the summer’s warmth!

Smiling in excitement, I text Tim, letting him know I got his message and will be at the studio this coming Tuesday. Jamming my phone into my pants pocket, I leave to take care of some final details. Mum is working on the meal for tomorrow, so I tell her that I’ll make the salad tomorrow, so it will be as fresh as possible. I show her my bouquet then close the box, labeling it. I store it in a corner of her refrigerator so it will be fresh for the wedding ceremony.