didn’t want to be another baby’s momma tied down to a kid with a man who ran off with cold feet and landed in another woman’s warm bed.
Somehow, Alex knew that Charlie had bigger i s sues with not using a condom, but had managed to not let that deter him from being with her, even though he loathed the restriction and feel of a condom. During their relationship, he had continuously reminded himself to be thankful that he hadn’t experienced an unwanted pregnancy, and when the time actually came to have a child, he would be more than ready, he’d be eager.
Taking her face in his hands, he pulled her to him again and kissed her, this time slow and deep enough to make her submit completely. The smell of her hair and soft skin made his desire come to a fever pitch.
“Tonight, we make love as we were meant to,” he said, pulling off her chemise.
The Contingency Plan
Eleven Years Later
If Sully kicked his foot on one more little football cleats then he was certain that he would go mad. Bending down to pick up the shoe off the staircase, he took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. “Benny, what did I tell you about leaving your football gear all over the place? What are you trying to do, kill me?”
A bushel of blondish brown locks peeped over the staircase on the third floor. “Sorry, Dad!” the squeaky little voice called out before it disappeared again.
“Sorry isn’t good enough, mister. Get down here and pick up your stuff.” Coughing, Sully covered his mouth with his hand and turned and sat down on the carpeted staircase. There was no way that he was going to make it upstairs right now. The flu was killing him. Aches and pain radiated through his body, and he felt like he was blazing with fire.
“Here I come,” Benny said.
“I’m going to my room. Don’t leave this house u n til it’s clean. That goes for both of you,” Sully called out again before he pulled himself up.
“Why do I have to clean up Benny’s mess?” his daughter Charlize asked from the second floor. Her long, auburn, braided pigtails flopped over the alaba s ter staircase and hung nearly a foot over the rail.
“Because some of this mess,” Sully said, picking up her paintbrush, “is yours.” He couldn’t dare be as hard on his little girl as he was on his son. Charlie, as he affectionately called her, was his princess, where Benny or Benjamin was his pride and joy. Both had a special place in his heart, but as twins most days they just wore him out.
Sully coughed again. “Charlie, do me a favor will you? Go check the mail for Daddy. I’ve gotta crash.” Stepping over more toys at the bottom of the staircase, he made his way through his lavish but very “lived in” home to his master bedroom where he threw himself on the bed, fully clothed in jeans and a red and white flannel, kicked off his shoes and turned on the telev i sion.
How he loved Saturday evenings. They were filled with the peaceful bliss of tacos, popcorn, lazy conve r sations that avoided anything constructive and u n structured family time that usually involved him not being involved. Football practice for the week was over for Benny; Charlie was in her room being Picasso and listening to Puccini, and he was free to lie in bed and watch re-runs of football and write on his nearly completely undiscovered blog. He had like two readers, one of which was him and the other a co m plete lunatic from Danville.
The fireplace across from him crackled with new wood and light snow began to fall outside of his windows on their manicured lawn. It somehow added to his lazy day. Coughing into a decorative pillow, he nestled down into the comfort of his bed and began to drift off.
Just as the rhythm of his chest became constant, and he began to drift off into a peaceful sleep, he suddenly heard a loud shriek from Charlie. His head popped up quickly, hands
Daniel Forrester, Mark Solomon