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Rated: 13+ · Book · Relationship · #910017
Finishing Touches and Final Strokes in one edition.
#314784 added April 4, 2005 at 9:52am
Restrictions: None
Chapter 1


Sliding in to the car from the driver’s side, Jenna stopped in the middle. Trevor took his place behind the wheel; he enjoyed driving much more than she did so it was an easy unspoken agreement, typical of their relationship. Her closeness delayed his starting the ignition. Instead, he looked over, waiting to see what she wanted, asking with his eyes only. It had also been quite some time since she had sat next to him like a young high school couple. Usually, she was concerned about being able to see the kids in the back.

“Did you have a good time?” She grasped his hand.

His head tilted slightly, eyes peering into hers. “Of course. I always do when I’m with you.”

“I love you, you know.”

“I know, Jen.” He leaned in to touch her lips. “We need to do this more often – just the two of us.”

She nodded. He hadn’t returned the affection. He was still upset.

Turning back, Trevor started the car and pulled it out onto the road. Jenna held her ground, again claiming his hand. He could be upset if he wished, but she wasn’t backing off, or away from her mindset. She would stay right there, in the middle, and hold onto him. He drove well with one hand.




One




Jenna pushed the cake pans into the oven. One she would decorate as elaborately as her limited talent with frosting would allow, once she decided how it would be decorated, and the other single-serving size she would cover with just a touch of frosting. Washing the remaining cake mix from her fingers, she dried them and decided to relax in her rocking chair for a while before finishing her preparations for company. Her baby was about to turn two years old. It didn’t seem real. Trevor had stopped mentioning wanting more children eventually. She wondered whether he had changed his mind. Maybe she hadn’t sounded interested enough, and she wasn’t sure she was. Maybe. But she wanted time to recuperate from her first two first. She couldn’t begin to imagine being pregnant while taking care of a 2 year old, a 3 year old, a part-time job, and an energetic boyfriend.

She grinned, thinking of Trevor’s boyishness. It still attracted her. It also exhausted her. She was glad he had decided to take the kids out today, to get them “out of her hair” and wear them out so they would sleep better at bedtime. She enjoyed the quiet of the apartment while looking out over the city. Wanting to feel the fresh fall air, Jenna rose again to pry open a window. Trevor had said it was beautiful – perfect run-around weather. Jenna had insisted her kids put their jackets on, anyway. He could always take them off again if they got too hot. She expected Anna to come in without hers since she generally stayed warm, as Trevor did. Aaron would insist on keeping his firmly zipped and likely with the hood tied around his chin. Jenna wasn’t sure if he was actually cold that often or just liked the security of being wrapped up. That was one of the best things about fall; being able to cuddle under a thick comforter without overheating. She liked the security of it, too.

Her other favorite fall activity was watching the leaves turn to reds and yellows and oranges and shades of brown, then tumble lightly to the ground. She especially liked to be outside when the wind was blowing well and the leaves would toss around her feet, singing their own melody to accompany the wind. She didn’t get much of that in Chicago, though. And the air didn’t smell like it had from outside her loft in Peoria, with the scent of the river mixed in. Lake Huron didn’t provide the same smell. Or maybe it did, but the city odors drowned it out before it reached her senses.

Thinking back to the architecture tour she had taken with Trevor before they had started dating, Jenna shook her head. No, even out on Lake Huron in the boat, it was different. The lake smell had been obvious, of course, but not the same. It smelled of fish.

With a sigh, she closed the window, standing beside it to watch the activity below. She needed to return to her cleaning; everyone would be there the following day, but it was quiet. She scolded herself, reminding her brain of the constant lack of quiet and constant longing for it, and returned to work.

Then she stopped again. She didn’t want to prepare for their daughter’s party alone. She wanted Trevor there to help, and just to be there. Jenna barely saw him anymore and she missed him.

Distracting herself, she went over to the little stereo she had brought from the loft and pushed in a cassette. She didn’t want to hear the chit chat from the DJ or relentless advertisements. She could do some general cleaning. There was always mail to go through that she didn’t bother with during the week.

It didn’t take long; most of it was junk. Dumping it into the garbage and putting the rest in her filing box, she looked around. The floor needed to be mopped, but there wouldn’t be much point in that until morning. The kids were sure to spill or drop something when they got home. Deciding to straighten the bedrooms, Jenna went first to Aaron’s and Anna’s. So far, they still shared. She supposed she would have to give up her den eventually to separate them.

With another sigh, Jenna changed her mind and went into her painting room, checking her current work in progress. It had been in progress for quite some time. She’d been too tired to work on it after the kids were in bed. Moving closer, she spotted a part that needed to be reworked. Spending just a few minutes with it before getting on with what needed to be done wouldn’t put her too far behind, she figured.

The contentness she found in fixing the painting pushed her into continuing a bit longer. It was going well. She was in her art zone, as Trevor called it, where it came naturally. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been there. When her feet began to ache – she had never been comfortable using the stool Trevor had bought her – Jenna checked the time. Too long. She had spent too long … the cake. Dropping her brush onto the palette, she scurried into the kitchen. The scent of chocolate mixed with a tinged odor slapped at her. Shoving the oven mitts over her hands, she pulled it out, grimacing. It looked more like scorched charcoal than like something anyone should put into their mouths. She coughed at the smoky air.

Now what? Not only had she lingered in the den too long, neglecting the work she should have done, but the cake was a disaster and the apartment smelled awful. Great way to prepare for a party.
Heading to the window to again push it open, Jenna noticed the sky darkening. Where was Trevor? The kids would get cold, even with jackets, when the sun went down. And she had to go get another cake mix, which irritated her nearly to breaking point. It took forever to go do anything in the city by the time she got through the traffic. So much for a nice, easy birthday party. Maybe she should try to relocate it – have it at a pizza place as others did. But there was no time to make reservations now. Everything would have been booked long ago. Why had she wanted to move up here?

Gritting her teeth, she shuffled through a drawer to find paper. She’d leave a note telling where she was in case Trevor made it back first. Part of her hoped he would. They were out late. The other part hoped she could get back and fix things up before he returned so he wouldn’t walk in on the mess.



Trying to block out the too-loud conversation in the elevator, Jenna shifted the weight of the grocery bag to her other arm. While at the store, she had remembered that she didn’t have any munchies of any kind and frantically tried to come up with something that would be palatable for all ages. Her niece and nephew – she supposed it was still okay to call Daniel’s sister’s children that – were picky eaters. So was Joan, although her mother-in-law wouldn’t ever fuss about it. And Alan and his family had been invited to stay for dinner after the party, since they would be staying in a hotel. Jenna had apologized to her best friend, besides Trevor, for having to do the party on a Sunday, because of his early Monday mornings, but she couldn’t imagine preparing during the work week. He had been very gracious, assuring her it was fine and they all looked forward to being there and seeing them again.

It bothered her; having Alan over to the apartment she shared with Trevor. It shouldn’t, she supposed, since Trevor knew their history and wasn’t concerned, but it did, all the same.

The women brushed up against her while getting off on their floor and Jenna sighed relief at their departure. She couldn’t imagine why it was so necessary to talk loudly in such a confined space. Did they really think their conversation was interesting enough everyone needed to be subjected? She fussed to herself when it stopped again at the next floor. And clenched her teeth seeing her stalker get on. Not an actual stalker, Jenna mused, but close enough. She dreaded getting caught anywhere with the younger woman.

Forcing politeness, Jenna answered questions about where she had gone and discussed how things were with their separate families. She hated that the most. The stalker-woman always changed her voice when referring to her and Trevor and the kids as a family. They were a family, regardless of their technical legal status. They spent more time together and enjoyed each other more than most families Jenna had seen, and emphasized this to the woman just to see the jealousy at how well Trevor treated her.

She hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far today, having the whole day at home and nothing but a mess and burned cake to show for it. Lurching away from the stalker-woman at the next open door, Jenna made her way to her apartment, adjusting the grocery bag again to find her keys. She took a deep breath before entering, ready for questions and kids climbing all over her.

But she no longer smelled singed chocolate. She was sure she had closed the window before leaving. Even on the fifth floor, she refused to have it open while they were away. But it smelled fresh, and clean.

Trevor looked over from the kitchen when she walked in. “I was getting worried. It’s dark.”

Jenna glanced around the apartment. “Trevor…”

“I was feeling guilty thinking you’d done everything while we were out playing.”

“I didn’t do anything…”

“You toasted a cake.” He grinned.

She moved toward him, setting the bag on the counter. “I should’ve had it done. You didn’t have to do all this. I just got distracted and lost track of what time it was. I didn’t mean to leave it….”

“You were painting.”

“Yeah. And I only meant to fix the area I wasn’t happy with, but…”

His arms wrapped around her waist. “I’m glad you were painting. It’s been too long. And it’s coming along well – very nice, Jen.”

She kissed him, pulling in tighter. Her hero. It sounded corny, even in her mind, but she couldn’t help thinking of him that way. He made everything okay, always. “It’s quiet. What are the kids doing?”

“Hmm… I guess you’ll have to call Aunt Nina and ask her. I left them with her tonight and she’ll bring them in the morning. I wanted us to celebrate our daughter’s birth alone tonight, holding you quietly the way I did the night before she was born, without the contractions interfering, of course.”

Jenna paused. Overnight? She hadn’t been away from them overnight in … well, never from Anna and only a couple of times from Aaron.

“And I brought dinner.” He pulled away and opened the oven door to pull out a grease-speckled brown bag. “The oven was still a bit warm when I got home, but I think it’s rather cold by now. Let me throw it in to warm while you get cleaned up and relax.”

Watching him pull the Chinese food boxes from the bag, Jenna moved closer. The kids would be fine. She would call and tell them good night, reassuring herself at the sound of their voices. Wrapping her arms around her boyfriend from behind, she let her head rest against his back and revelled in the feel of his arms over hers, holding her in.

Giving in to his urging that she warm up with a hot shower, Jenna lingered longer than she should have. The hot pulsing water did wonders for her spirit. She always stressed too much about having company. But she wouldn’t linger on it tonight. She would put the new cake mix in the oven after they ate and let everything else go until morning. With Trevor’s help, it would all work out.

Slipping into a baggy sweatshirt and sweat pants that almost matched, she went back out to find him. The room was dark, except for the candles glowing. Tons of candles. She couldn’t even count them. She felt underdressed in her own apartment, and blown away.

He approached, handing her a glass of what looked like red wine. “A toast. To the beautiful mother of my children.” He tapped his glass against hers and took a sip. “I wanted to do this last year, but didn’t figure it would go over well since you were sick at the time.” He touched her lips.

“What is all this for?”

Trevor ran fingers over her cheek. “A thank you, for giving me everything you’ve given me.”

“Trevor…”

“Come sit down. Dinner’s warm.”
© Copyright 2005 Voxxylady (UN: voxxylady at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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