I still had to ask him, though; I had to hear it from his own lips.
“Does this change things, Davey? Between us, I mean.”
“In what way, Angel-May?” he retorted, looking adorably puzzled. “We want babies, lots of babies, maybe we caught one already, what could possibly be wrong in that?”
I grinned happily at that; he’d said it, the thing that made it all real, that made it all OK between us. He was grinning like an idiot, obviously and wholeheartedly taken with the idea that he might have already knocked me up, and to be honest, so was I. I thought that little statement from him needed a reward, he looked like he was expecting one, so yeah, let’s do this said my libido, already chiming with newly-pregnant girl hormonal horniness!
“You say the nicest things, Darling Boy!” I whispered, noting with interest his renewed interest, so I let him show me how sorry he was for scaring me like that; very little puts my Davey off his stride when Horny-Head comes visiting, and boy did he show me some moves!
*
Davey took me to dinner that evening, with a special guest I’d asked along: Aunt Sophie. It troubled me that I was probably already pregnant, that we’d gone and put the cart before the horse, and I was unsure how someone as obviously well-bred, formal, and seriously intimidating as I guessed Sophie could be was going to take the news that I was already preggers; would she start thinking I’d done it to trap Davey? His family is old, wealthy, well and widely connected and influential. Supposing they’d had plans for him, and I’d come along and thrown a spanner in the works? I was filled with conflicting emotions about Sophie, looking as she did, but what I needed most from her was approval; right then my apprehension was running at ‘high’, in exactly the same way I would have been apprehensive about telling Mom I had a bun in the oven.
My head was in a spin over how to deal with Sophie; I knew how close she and Richard had been to Davey’s poor daddy, and now that remembered closeness was focusing on Davey, I could see it happening right before my eyes, plus her uncanny resemblance to Mom in so many ways put me at a serious disadvantage as well; talking to her felt just like talking to Mom, and I knew how icy Mom could be when she got mad; supposing Sophie froze me like that as well? Telling her was seriously scary, I don’t mind admitting that at all.
As it happened, Sophie was a model of motherly concern, and I was right to trust her; as I felt this, a strange thought struck me, one I couldn’t shake; mom had said to me before she passed away that she’d always be with me, one way or another, and it was almost a shock to realize that perhaps this was exactly what she’d meant; perhaps meeting Sophie, and finding so much of Mom in her was no coincidence at all; perhaps unknown forces were at work and all this was meant to be.
I was a shaky mess, my makeup smudged and mussed, so Sophie took me off to the restaurant rest-room so we could repair my make-up, and to have a little private chat. When we got there, a woman was leisurely primping her hair and makeup in the huge mirror, but one look at Sophie’s pointed expression and raised eyebrow (weirdly, just like Davey’s when he’s annoyed but holding it in/puzzled/dumbfounded/lost for words) and she beat it out of there at warp speed. Sophie sat me down, and began dabbing and wiping away my smeared mascara.
“Listen to me, darling girl,” she began. “First of all: you’re marrying David, not me, so my opinion doesn’t matter; in the great maelstrom of scandal this family’s managed to whip-up for itself over the centuries, your being preggers without benefit of clergy is not even a ripple. For what it’s worth, I think he made exactly the right choice. Second, in this day and age, walking down the aisle pregnant, or even not walking down the aisle at all, are nothing new, and nothing to be ashamed of, and you certainly don’t need me to tell you that. Whether or not you and David ever get married, that baby in there will always be my niece or nephew, David will always be my nephew, you will always be our Darling Girl, and the family will have nothing to say about it; if they try, they’ll have me to contend with, and they really don’t want that! Then, of course, there’s Richard; he’s already decided that since he’s going to be giving you away, he’s the de-facto father of the bride, and anyone saying anything about you he doesn’t like is going to be walking around with a pronounced limp and their face hanging off the side of their head.”
She turned me to the light so she could do my eye-liner neatly.
“Remember this, darling: David adores you, he’d crawl through fire and across broken glass for you, and so will Richard; whatever you do, and whatever transpires, we’re all here in your corner. You don’t need other people to tell you what’s right for you, and if you’re a little bit preggers when you walk down the aisle, who cares? It’s not my business, it’s not even a thing anymore. I’m not going to make a federal case out of it, and neither is Richard, so buck-up, smile, and let’s go and have dinner; David had that famished look when we left, just like his father used to get, and I think he’s been alone far too long already. Shall we?”
*
The following morning, Davey announced that we were going to see his friend at Brigham & Women’s Hospital right here in Boston. He’d arranged for us to pay him a visit so he could examine me and confirm whether or not I actually was pregnant. We made our way there, did all the tests, and three hours later I knew for certain: I was officially ‘in the club’, as Davey so delicately put it, and this is where it got real. Davey was like a pup with two tails; the idea of me being pregnant seemed to have lit a fire in him; luckily, I knew exactly how to fan it higher…
A morning of teasing and torturing him in the bright Boston sunlight seemed in order. He’d insisted on taking an extended stroll around Old Town, so I was going to make him pay, because I’d been in the mood for a little contact sport and he’d taken my edge off. I have to admit, though, trailing him around town, sitting and casually throwing my hair around, crossing and uncrossing my legs as we chatted and sipped coffee, all were having a visible effect on him, and serve him right, too.
Eventually, I relented; teasing him was revving my motor, too, and I had an outfit in my box of tricks guaranteed to pop his thermometer, so we hustled back to the hotel. Poor Davey was in agony; he’s a horny beast at the best of times, but that thing was reaching new heights; even the receptionist raised an eyebrow as we hurried past the desk, though Davey had tried to disguise it with a hurriedly purchased newspaper…
When we got to our suite, I made poor Davey sweat in the ante-room while I hurried into my latest weapon in the seduction game we were playing. Sophie had laughed delightedly when she saw it, her only comment being that if they’d had things like that thirty years earlier life would have been completely different for poor Uncle Richard!
When I called Davey in, his eyes popped out of his head; I had on an opaque, one-piece wet-look body-stocking, with built-in teetering stiletto heels; getting into the skin-tight, stretchy thing had been easy enough, the material molding to me like a second skin, while all the seams sealed permanently with my body heat; if Davey wanted to get me out of that thing, he’d have to tear it off of me, which was kind of the idea…
And yes, he did tear it off me, in-between bouts of torturing my pussy with his talented mouth, eating my ass until I was in a screaming frenzy, and fucking me like a man possessed, reaming out my pussy and jamming his fat cock deep into my ass just the way I liked it; Davey fucking my ass was more than just playtime, though; in my mind, this was the thing that connected us most closely together, it was our special thing, and making love without going there left me feeling curiously flat, like a banana-boat sundae with no cherry on the top; nice, delicious, a sweet treat, and a feast for the senses, but no ultimate payoff, that last taste missing. So I took him there, a treat for him, and the seal on the deal for me; I’m guessing he liked it…
*
The Skeleton Waltz
Lunch the following day included Sophie, of course; Davey and I had decided to make tracks back to Bar Harbor and get the house picked-up, packed-up, and listed with a realtor; he’d already arranged with his friend Georgie to borrow his place in somewhere called ‘Epsom’ in the English county of Surrey while we house-hunted; I’d been intrigued as to whether we could possibly camp-out at the family home I’d heard so much about, but he’d flatly refused to even consider it; even the mere mention of it had made him go pale, but he perked-up when Sophie announced she was coming back to Bar Harbor with us to witness our quickie wedding, and help me sort through Mom and Daddy’s things. I know I’d asked Uncle Richard to give me away, but that was coming later; he knew this was just the first step as far as our getting married went, the legal bit, as it were, that allowed me to travel to England as Davey’s wife, and that the real family wedding that would mean so much to Davey and everyone else was still to come.
We beat it post-haste back to Maine, where Davey married me in court, with Sophie witnessing for us. It was just a quickie wedding, I know that, something we’d agreed would be the easiest way to formalize my immigration status, but still, that moment when Davey gazed into my eyes, when he said the words I’d waited so long to hear, when he slipped that simple, beautiful gold band on my finger, and when he kissed me with all the love I felt in his heart for me, that will be the wedding I’ll always remember.
Whatever came after, no matter how fancy, this was the moment my heart would cherish forevermore, the moment it all finally, irrevocably, stopped being a dream and became the reality we’d both wanted so much. Whatever we did with the rest of the family, in my heart I was finally, truly my Davey’s wife; if we never went through with the wedding we’d planned for in England, it wouldn’t matter, because here, right now, this was my wedding day.
That glow lasted all the way through to the next day, and then the shit hit the fan…