Rhapsody Suite
Fourteen
I WOKE UP sometime in the middle of the night. Maybe ‘woke up’ is too strong a term. I floated up out of sleep far enough to be cognizant of my erection pressed between Lissa’s thighs from behind. She floated with me and shifted just enough to guide me into her. For a long time, we drifted in and out of sleep as we made tiny movements, never sure if we were dreaming or awake. A feeling of deep contentment washed over me as I pressed my face against her shoulder and felt her nipple harden against one hand and Melody’s against the other. I’m pretty sure I came, but I sank back down into my dreams, still intimately connected with my lover.
When the alarm rang, my eyes snapped open. Melody was closest to the alarm and fumbled with it. My cock was still nestled up between Lissa’s nether lips.
“Mmmm,” Lissa moaned, wiggling her hips into my stomach. “What a nice way to wake up… and to sleep.” Melody, having succeeded in silencing the alarm rolled back toward us.
“Lissa sandwich,” she said. She kissed our lover, her hands flitting over both of us. “Oooo. What’s this down here?” Her exploring hand found where we were still semi-connected.
“Just leftovers,” I said. “I had this most amazing dream and then I woke up to a dream come true.”
“Mmm. Let’s go back to sleep and all dream it together,” Lissa moaned.
“Do we have to go to class today? I’m still exhausted.” Melody stretched and sat up. Seeing those beautiful shoulders rise and the line of her arm flowing into her outthrust breasts as she stretched caused a twitch in my cock, but I knew it was just a salute. I reluctantly pulled away from Lissa and sat up. She moaned as she rolled to her back and put an arm around each of us.
“You might get away with cutting, but I’ve got to stay awake during Art History this morning. And I need to talk to Ms. Brock this afternoon about all the Concepts classes I’ve missed. She was a little sarcastic Monday about how pleased she was to see me in class.”
“And I have to visit the Rosewood store this morning,” Lissa said. “We’re looking at a new line and I want to go over how the merchandise will fit into our display space.”
“Fun! I want to do that,” Melody said. She leaned in to kiss each of us. “Do I smell bacon?”
“Mmm. Your mother, unless the boys are cooking,” I said. “She must have beaten us to the kitchen this morning.” Melody’s mood soured a little. We took our turns in the bathroom and wandered out toward the kitchen together. Lexi entertained the boys at the breakfast bar while she cooked at the stove. We all paused to listen. Melody stiffened a little, but Lissa and I hugged her between us. I could feel some of the tension drain out of her.
“My mommy is the best mommy in the whole world,” Damon affirmed.
“Really? Who says?” Lexi asked.
“My daddy says so.” Lissa was a little startled at that and began to move into the room. I held her back to listen some more.
“Do you know what I think?” Lexi asked. “I think your mommy and daddy have the best boys in the world. Do you want another pancake?”
“Mickey Mouse!” Drew shouted, holding out his plate. We took that as our cue to enter the kitchen.
“Mommy!” the boys called when they saw us. “We didn’t wake you up.” They were still in their pajamas and had syrup all over their faces.
“No honey, you didn’t wake us up. Are you having fun with Mrs. Anderson?”
“Mickey Mouse!” Drew affirmed again.
“Mom, are you making Mickey Mouse pancakes? Can we have some?”
“Of course, dear. Lissa, I hope you don’t mind that I commandeered the kitchen. When the boys came out, I thought making them breakfast would keep them from disturbing you too early. There’s fresh coffee.”
“No, of course not. I love it when people are at home in my kitchen. What are Mickey Mouse pancakes?” Lexi showed the three connected pancakes that made a mouse face with blueberries for eyes, nose, and mouth. “How cute!”
“You were up early,” I said casually.
“Still on East Coast time, dear,” Lexi said pleasantly. “I had a lot to think about this morning.” Melody tentatively hugged her mom from behind and we all gathered around the breakfast bar. There weren’t enough stools to go around, but it didn’t make a difference as we leaned against the counter and drank our coffee. When Lissa announced that it was time for the boys to clean up and get ready for school, Melody jumped at the opportunity to take them to wash their sticky faces and hands. Lissa and I poured another cup of coffee and sat with Lexi.
“Tony, thank you,” Lexi started. Lissa raised an eyebrow, but I declined to respond with more than a nod. “Lissa, I don’t know how to say I’m sorry in a way that you can believe after my behavior yesterday. I promise I will do my best to make it up to all three of you.” She hesitated and I could tell that she’d made a difficult decision. “I don’t want to lose my daughter. I don’t understand how you can be in the relationship you are. It is so foreign to me. But if you are happy, I don’t need to understand. My marriage failed. You three are so beautiful together that I have to accept that Melly is okay. I’ll do my very best. I won’t interfere or try to drive you apart. I’ll even…” She had trouble going on. “…even defend you from Harold. I’ll try. Just, please let me be part of your lives. I’ll do better. I promise I’ll do better.”
What could I do? I just gave her a hug and said, “I have to get ready for class. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Would you like to visit one of my stores with me this morning?” Lissa asked. “It will be much better than hanging around the empty house all day.”
We would make this work for Melody’s sake. Somehow.
We made it through the week. Lexi was true to her promise and worked hard at mending her relationship with Melody. She followed Lissa to various stores on Wednesday, went to classes with Melody on Thursday. She met our friends and even sat for a portrait—fully clothed—for our Live Painting class on Friday.
I’d like to say that I painted her with love and affection and that when she looked at the painting, she could see herself through eyes that saw all the good in her. I can’t. The painting was barely passable. I still harbored too much resentment and anger. Melody’s portrait of her mother, however, brought the woman to tears.
I had a light workout on Friday, the first time I was allowed back on the courts. I worked entirely on serves so I wouldn’t be running, stopping, and starting frequently. My ankle was feeling much better, but after the workout it was still pretty sore. Lissa sent me straight for the training room at SCU where one of the student trainers worked on me for about an hour and then wrapped my ankle so that I could walk to dinner.
Melody had packed clothes for me to change into before we met for dinner. It was dressier than anything I’d worn since school started. She’d selected a pair of khaki slacks, pale blue oxford shirt and my one and only navy blue blazer. Still, instead of going straight to the restaurant, I caught a lift to my dorm room and changed out of my sneakers and into my brown dress shoes after I dug them out from under the bed and behind my dresser. I was running late, so—feeling like a real adult—I called a cab and was delivered to the restaurant.
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