All Was Golden in the Sky

My throat hurt like a bitch. I groaned and buried my face in the arm draped under my pillow, licking my lips and wincing as the sharp skin cut into my tongue. The rest of my body stretched out and I winced in satisfaction when I felt my shoulders crack. But something felt off. I had too much room to move. The way my arms were spread out, my hand should have been in Brendon’s face…

I slowly lifted my head, well aware my hair was sticking to my face and scalp in odd positions, and squinted around. My little bed looked a mess—in our sleep we’d pulled up the comforter and the yellow mattress peered up, showing itself to be the reason for the rug burn looking mark on my elbow. Brendon’s pajamas were lying next to the bed, but he was nowhere in sight.

My feet carefully helped me down the stairs and I wiped the sleep from my eyes. I wasn’t even going to start worrying about my hair; I knew it was a lost cause. I had the courtesy to throw on a sports bra under my shirt before coming down (Brendon was the only one who wouldn’t mind me not wearing a bra) and winced when my bare feet came into contact with the cold hardwood of the hall.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” my mom greeted from the kitchen table, leaning over another puzzle. That was one of the things my parents did. They used to always drag my sister and I to the toy section in stores to find new thousand piece puzzles to work on. I didn’t mind—more of a chance to gaze at the toys without actually browsing.

“Morning,” I rasped, smiling when I looked into the family room. Brendon was lounging on the loveseat, giggling silently to the recorded episode of Family Guy on the television. I quickly kissed my mom on the cheek and strolled over to him, grinning when he looked up.

He grinned back. “Hey Peacock,” he chuckled, holding out his arms for me to join him. I slid onto his lap with ease and brushed his bangs out of his face. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Good,” I said sweetly, “and you?”

He shrugged and lay down, pulling me onto his chest. “Fine,” he sighed, and looked up at me dejectedly.

“I promised you. Tonight,” I reminded him quietly, leaning up and tracing my nose against his neck, hidden by the back of the couch. He huffed and turned his head to look at the T.V.

“I know,” he whispered. “It’s just my crotch still hurts. It might hurt my performance.”

I bit my lip and turned my head into his shoulder, shaking slightly with laughter. “S not funny,” he mumbled, feeling the vibrations. I shook my head and he sighed. “Anne, stop laughing. Seriously. I’m actually worried.”

I lifted my head up and smiled softly at him. He kept his eyes glued to the screen. “Honey, I know you’re serious. It just sounds…funny,” I said simply. His eyes tightened and his lips thinned. I sighed and sat up for a second, glancing over the top of the couch and watched my mom as she walked away to go to the bathroom. That gave me fifteen minutes tops.

“Sit up,” I whispered, sliding off his lap and onto the floor. He raised an eyebrow and complied, looking over his shoulder to where my mom was sitting before.

“What’re you—“ he stopped short and gasped when I quickly climbed onto his lap again, grinding my hips into his. His head rolled back and his hands quickly grabbed my waist; his little nails dug into my skin.

“Brendon,” I whispered, surprised at how rough my voice sounded. “Look at me.” His eyes rolled forward and he stared at me, breathing heavily. I slid my hands up from his chest to his neck, grazing my nails against the skin as they worked up to his hair. “I said I was rewarding you,” I whispered, leaning forward so our lips were milliliters apart. “That means tonight is all for you. I’m performing tonight baby—you get to enjoy the show.”

He shivered as my lips trailed over his skin, and I wished we were back in Vegas. Maybe at his apartment, since it was nicer. Cuddled under those ridiculous sheets he refused to replace, no matter how often I offered to pay for new ones. Seriously, they were faded and the seams were bursting (not at all because of the rough handling they were exposed to) and looked like ones he might have slept with in middle school.

He pushed me away suddenly, his eyes darting to the glass sliding doors. “Your dad is outside,” he whispered through clenched teeth, as if he were worried Dad could hear him.

I smiled and scooted closer again. He tensed when my fingers brushed his forearm and he straightened in his seat. “Bren he’s not going to care if we hold hands,” I sighed, scooting away and slouching down, dejected. He bit his lip and cast one more glance outside before looking down at me.

“He invited me to go golfing with him later,” he explained. “I don’t want to piss him off before I give him a metal club.”

“Ah,” I nodded, “understandable.”

--

“How long does it take to golf?” I complained later that day to my mother, still hard at work on her stupid puzzle. It was of a picture of a busy, colorful city, with a cow in it for some reason. A blue cow at that.

She laughed and shrugged, taking a sip from the coffee mug that rarely left her hand. “A few hours. They’ll be fine, Annie, just give them a while together.”

I sighed. I was worried, I admit. Dad can be scary to guys—the man was a cop for God’s sakes. He knew how to interrogate. Brendon was as innocent as they get. That would set Dad off.

We were quiet for a while, and I played with the piece of the blue cow, running it between my fingers and staring at the table as I pretended to be looking for where it belonged. Mom looked at me and her glance turned into a gentle stare. It startled me when she set down her mug and released a small sigh.

“Annie, do you mind if I pry a little?” she asked carefully.

I raised an eyebrow, but shook my head. She’s my mom—she’s allowed to pry. A little.

She shifted in her seat, folding and unfolding her hands, gesturing and then saying nothing. I waited patiently.

“How serious are you and Brendon?” she asked slowly, warily bringing her eyes up to my face.

I cocked my head. “How do you mean?”

She bit her lip and fidgeted again. “Yesterday you said you weren’t living together, even after two years. Do you have…plans?”

I stared blankly at her. Was she asking if Brendon and I were planning on getting married? My eyes shot down to her hand, where she was twirling her wedding band. Yes, she was.

“I…we’ve talked about it, in the future,” I stuttered, silently cursing myself when I felt my hands moisten. I hurriedly wiped them on my jeans.

“When, in the future?” she pressed.

“I don’t know!” I muttered, tearing my eyes away from hers and glaring at the damned blue cow puzzle piece. “We didn’t set specific dates. We’ve just talked about maybe getting married one day, moving into his place, what it’d be like if we had kids…”

My mind spun with the images. Walking down an aisle, my torso entirely white and my eyes blinded by a thin curtain of silver, but the moment my feet stopped moving the curtain was pulled from my face and all I could see was Brendon.

Carrying huge boxes, piled so high I could barely see where I was going. Tripping on something and falling, all the boxes flying from my hands, but landing in a soft embrace before I hit the ground and feeling Brendon’s soft kiss on my head.

Hearing wailing all over the place, so loud that I couldn’t think straight. Bottles all over the place, baby powder covering my skin. My head began to hurt. But then the crying stopped, and the powder and bottles were gone, and there was only the soft cooing of Brendon’s voice in my ears…

“—don’t you think you two should talk more about it?”

My head snapped up and I blinked, trying to regain my focus. “What? Oh. Maybe.”

My mom nodded her head sympathetically. “It’s okay Annie. Don’t stress about it.” She pushed her chair back and stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “I say we call it a day with this one,” she nodded towards the puzzle. “We’ll continue later.” She smiled sweetly at me and grabbed her mug, carrying it over to the sink and rinsing it out.

She came up to me and placed a kiss on my head, ruffled my hair affectionately and began walking away. “Your sister is supposed to get in tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.

I smiled softly and set my puzzle piece on the table. My smile widened when I heard the garage door opening, and I stood, happily heading towards the hall to greet the two men in my life.

My smile shattered when Brendon sheepishly walked in first, his head bowed as he hurried past. I stared after him as he took the steps two at a time and quickly turned to face my father as he walked in. He stared at me for a minute before shaking his head, moving to push past. I held firm.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, squaring my shoulders.

“I think it’s best if Brendon slept in the Lounge for a while,” he said, a slight trickle of harshness leaking from his words. I furrowed my eyebrows but he didn’t say anything else. He walked past me and headed straight for the backyard, ignoring the ever happy Sawyer trying to greet him.