Chapter 3
Sunday morning service was very important to Lola Harrison. She and Flint always attended the mass both in the morning and in the evenings. If their schedule permitted, they would even attend in a mid-week Wednesday evening service.
Brock would attend occasionally, even if only for his mother. Though he knew he should really attend more. Lucy refused to wear the same dress to church twice, so she always showed up in something different and flashy. She looked like she was about to attend a cocktail party rather than a Catholic mass.
Lola settled all her children in and smiled when she saw that her oldest son had attended. Religion was important to her and she gave Brock a kiss on the cheek before settling down next to Flint.
It was a quiet, conservative congregation. A few people got up to pray and even his father, Flint had joined at the front to pray. During that time, he noticed his mother pull out a handkerchief and dab her eyes. He knew Forest and the rest of his siblings didn't really understand why their mother got so emotional when Flint had started pray. But Brock knew why.
Flint Harrison prayed for the two lives he took back twenty seven years ago. Just after his birth, his father had started to drink and on his way home from a bar late one night he ran a red light and killed two people. A mother and a daughter.
He lay unconscious for a month in the hospital, unaware of the lives that he had taken. His blood alcohol level was .20 as tested by doctors and he was charged with a DUI and involuntary manslaughter.
Of course, the charges were dropped because he had hired the best lawyer in town and had somehow convinced a judge he had been drugged by an anonymous patron.
Still, Brock knew it bothered him everyday that it had happened and twenty-seven years later he still prayed for the lives he took. After a few moments, Flint rejoined his wife and she placed her hand on his leg.
Just like she did every Sunday since he could remember.
After a few more prayers and some bible stories, the congregation stood up and greeted each other. His parents were very popular among the church goers, but Brock and Lucy weren't so much. They found Lucy snobby and conceited, while they found Brock to be a womanizer as he was back in high school.
The older, more prudish people scrutinized them and he always was sure to make a quick exit out of the church and into his pickup truck.
"Why do we even bother with church, Brock?" Lucy asked, checking her hair and make up in the mirror. "Those people can't stand us and we never practice what we learn."
"It's for Mom and Dad." He looked out the back window as he pulled out of the church parking lot and settled back into his seat as he cruised down the road, shifting gears every once in a while as he changed speeds.
As soon as they got home, Lucy had insisted on a shower and after he politely declined her proposal to join her, he noticed the red light on his answer machine was blinking. He checked the time. It was almost one o'clock and he thought it was probably Misty.
He waited until he heard the rush of water in the upstairs bathroom and then he played it, hearing first the monotone voice of a woman telling him the date and time of the call. "New Message. Sunday, 12:17 PM."
Then a beep and Misty's voice. She sounded as if she had been crying or upset.
"Hey, Brock. It's Misty." She sounded nervous and she paused, as if she didn't know quite what to say. "I just wanted to let you know we made it to Pine Valley and into our hotel safely. We're headed back tomorrow afternoon." Then she paused and waited.
Brock leaned against the counter and listened. Then she spoke again. "I kind of need to talk to you about something. But I think it would be better to just talk to you in person because it's kind of…embarrassing. So, I'll see you when I get home. Anyway, Ash and I are headed out to lunch…Bye Brock. Tell Lucy I said Hi."
Then she hung up.
Raising an eyebrow, he deleted the message. If it was their honeymoon, he definitely wouldn't be taking her out to lunch. Hell, they probably wouldn't even be leaving the hotel room if he could help it, but a man had to eat, he supposed.
Then he thought about it. Last night Ash had probably had the most amazing night of his life and what was he doing? Standing at the rail of the East Street bridge talking to Neal Dash. Of course, he was grateful the old man had practically saved his life.
He shook his head. Every time he heard her voice he became distracted and he didn't even notice Lucy had entered the kitchen until she was right in front of him, in nothing but a short towel.
Her hair was wet and clung to her back and she looked up at him with a sensual glance. "I had a little trouble washing my back. Think you can do it for me?" She batted her eyelashes at him, playfully and he grinned.
He had been sexually frustrated since he had been with Misty last night on the small bridge over the pond. He had planned to come home, sober Lucy up just because he didn't feel right having sex with a drunk woman, and doing his usual fantasizing, but instead they had gotten in another fight.
Which they hadn't really had the chance to make up for since they had rushed off to church as soon as they woke up.
Brock kissed her and she kissed him back, passionately and pulled him upstairs to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and Lucy let go of her towel and it fell to the floor around her feet.
She hurried into the shower and he followed, working up a thick lather in his hands. She pressed her breasts against the wall and moaned out dramatically as he ran his soapy hands down her back.
He grunted and closed his eyes, wondering what it would feel like to do this with Misty. It wasn't technically cheating if you made love to a woman in your mind was it? By the time he had washed her body, he was aroused and without much prompting, he pushed her against the wall and entered her.
Within a matter of minutes, she reached her climax and then again. And again. Until she was weak in his arms. Then he closed his eyes and thought about Misty, resisted calling our her name and then released himself inside of her.
Brock separated from her and she pulled him in for a kiss before they both stepped out of the shower and got dressed.
"You are the most incredible lover in the world." Lucy giggled girlishly and he playfully slapped her behind and she dashed out of the bathroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Staring into the mirror, he berated himself. He felt better, physically, but emotionally he was drained. Sometimes he felt as if he using Lucy, using her body, to satisfy himself and he hated doing that. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about Misty and he found himself wondering what it would be like to actually make love to her.
He was tired of just sex. Of course he loved Lucy to some extent, but when they had sex, it was just that. Sex. No love. No deep emotional attachment. At least not for him, and he hated that, too.
Sighing, he turned off the light and exited the bathroom. The house was quiet. Too quiet at times. The thought of wanting kids was coming back, strong now. It always did, especially on days like today. Warm, sunny and bright.
Brock imagined spending Sunday afternoons with his sons outside. Or listening to his daughters play piano. Something domesticated, something that gave him a sense of responsibility.
When he entered the kitchen, he saw Lucy sitting at the table just picking up her favourite romance novel and flipping it to her bookmarked page. She smiled at him, but they didn't talk. They seemed to do that a lot.
Then, he looked at the answering machine. The message was deleted, but he still couldn't imagine what Misty would want to talk about. He was positive it had to do with something sexual and he wasn't sure if he could sit there and listen to her tell about her first sexual encounter with Ash, but if she needed his help or advice, he was there.
He always was.
By Sunday evening, it was safe to say that her honeymoon had been a disaster. Misty was miserable and sad, and when she tried to talk to As about it, he quickly dismissed her or became angry at her.
She had always been slightly uncomfortable with the way she looked. Her stomach was flat, but not toned like some other women. Her breasts weren't small, but not exactly double D's like most men would go for. And her hair was a beautiful ginger spice red, thick and luxurious but she had always hated it.
And now, Ash had just made her feel worse about herself.
They would be headed home tomorrow and she was almost grateful about it. She wasn't planning on having sex with Ash, she wasn't even going to try. After all, it should just happen. A man and a woman alone together in a house, sharing a bed and who have just gotten married?
It was guaranteed to happen when the time was right. It was only natural.
Of course, for as long as she made him wait they should have been going at it like rabbits right now. But they weren't.
Instead, Ash was watching reruns of old sitcoms and Misty was in the bedroom, reading a sappy romance novel and hated the way the writer had made it sound like sex was such a wonderful thing. She wouldn't know if it was or not.
However, it invoked strange feelings in her and as she pictured the characters in her mind, she suddenly found herself and Brock in the middle of the sensual love scene. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she closed the novel.
She wasn't allowed to think like that. She was a married woman now and she just had to put those thoughts out of her head. According to Lucy, Brock was an incredible lover and Misty would like to think Ash would be if she could ever get him to have sex with her.
The cold hard fact was, it shouldn't have been this hard. In fact, Ash should have been the one chasing her around, begging for sex. Isn't that how marriage worked?
Misty was just about to pick up her novel again when the bedroom door opened. Ash leaned in and for an instant, she felt excited. Had he come in to finally consummate their marriage, even though it was an odd time.
But soon, Misty's hopes suddenly fell when he spoke his real reasons for approaching her. He looked almost uncomfortable, as if he wasn't quite comfortable in being in a bedroom with her. "Hey, do you want to go out to eat?"
Honestly, no. She wasn't hungry. She would rather just lay in bed for the rest of the night and wait patiently to go back home to Landview and start her life as Ash's wife and hope that things got better.
"Sure." Misty replied, standing up from the bed.
No, she wasn't experienced in relationships. Or sex for that matter. But even she knew this wasn't normal behavior of newlyweds. According to Brock, the lack of sex didn't start until well after the children arrived and even then it was at least once a day.
Of course, what did he know? He didn't have any children and he was a lecherous man, even though he had been faithful to Lucy for years.
Ash took her to a small, Texas-style diner in the middle of the buzzing metropolis of Pine Valley called Buenos Dias. The atmosphere was casual and the wooden-paneled walls were cast in different colours from neon lights.
The smell of food was prominent and Misty realized she was indeed hungry.
Ash sat across from her and smiled at her, as if this was their first date. As if he had never been around another female before and that mere action made her feel like getting married might have been a mistake.
She tried to ignore it and enjoy her dinner. After all, it was the first thing they had done since they had been on their honeymoon and she didn't want to dwell on the bad stuff anymore. They barely spoke as they looked over the menus and then their waiter approached the table.
He was short and stocky, a bit chunky and he wore a red sweatband, which held back long locks of black hair from his face. He looked tired and worn, but he greeted her with a smile, but it faltered when it fell upon Ash.
It could have just been her, but Misty could have sworn she saw Ash's eyes flash with panic.
"Hello, my name's Tracy." The waiter focused on Misty and pulled out his order pad, flipping the front of it over. "I'll be your waiter tonight. May I start you off with something to drink?"
"Sweet tea." Misty ordered, politely.
"W-water." Ash stammered without Tracy's prompting and the waiter quickly retreated to the back. Ash sat across from her, both his elbows on the table and he looked down at his legs. The table was shaking because of him and Misty scowled.
"What is up with you today?"
"Huh? What?" He looked up at her, shock was evident in his eyes.
"You're just acting…strange. Is everything alright?"
Ash forced a smile. "Everything's great, Honey." The name of affection seemed forced and Misty crossed her legs under the table.
When they ordered their food, Tracy had avoided Ash's gaze and he had started to tear off the corners of his napkin. Misty decided to leave it alone and she wondered if she really made him that nervous. If she did, then he shouldn't have married her.
Her anger was mounting more and more and she found herself not wanting to wait until the morning to go home.
Tracy arrived with the food just moments later and she eagerly dug into her salad. She was starved, but was soon interrupted when Ash angrily flagged down another passing waiter.
A tall, thin man who's nametag read Norman stopped and asked him what the problem was.
"My chicken's burnt to a crisp!" He spat angrily, pointing down to his plate. The chicken looked delicious to her. Cooked to perfection and smothered in a tangy pineapple sauce, she almost wished she would have ordered it herself.
So what was Ash's problem?
Was he just being a jerk like normal?
Norman raised an eyebrow and picked it up from the table. "I'll bring you another one."
"Yea, and also, can we have another waiter? Our current one is a real jerk."
The thin waiter stopped and looked over at Misty with question, seeing she was just as equally confused. "I'll take over your table sir." And then he was off.
Misty tossed a cherry tomato aside with her fork. "Ash, that was very rude. There was nothing wrong with that chicken and our waiter was a nice guy!"
Ash scowled and crossed his arms. "He was staring at me! Noticed how he gave me my plate first? I think he was flirting!"
Rolling her eyes, she stabbed a piece of grilled chicken with her fork. "So what? He's gay. I assume that means he can't refill our drinks and deliver our food properly?"
He leaned back in the booth and waited for a new dish to be brought to him. "You know I have a problem with it. After what Dad did to Mom."
"Still," She said, shaking her head. It bothered her that Ash was so judgmental, but she tried to overlook it. After all, when Spencer had left his mother for Chet Wilkins, a very handsome underwear model for Abercrombie and Fitch, it had really put his family in turmoil.
And his mother still hadn't recovered from it.
Misty couldn't imagine what Delia must have went through. She bore him a child, raised that child up to be a teenager and had the picture perfect life and she had been completely in love with Spencer. And then he did that to her.
No wonder she was intense therapy.
But Delia had assured everyone she was happy and moving on now with Samuel Oak. Couldn't Ash just except it and move on as well?
Tracy walked by their table and eyed Ash. Embarrassment washed over Misty. He probably thought they were a couple of judgmental, stuffed shirts.
Norman bought him another plate of the same exact dish and this time, Ash ate it. Tracy tried to avoid their section and Misty wanted nothing more than to just go back to the hotel room, sleep, and go back home.
Eventually, Norman brought the check to their table and Ash quickly paid with cash and didn't wait for his change. Instead, he insisted they leave and she was more than happy to comply.
She took a shower and climbed into bed next to Ash. Even if she was angry with him and a little bit hurt, it was still their honeymoon and she wanted to make love to him.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his chest and smiled. "Ash…" She whispered sensual, making small circles with her fingers on his chest. He lay there with his arms behind his head.
"What?"
"Can we make love tonight?" She asked, shyly. "I promise I'm not mad anymore about last night, or tonight at the restaurant, even if I don't completely agree with what you did. I'd still like to make love to you."
"Not tonight, Misty." Ash groaned, clearly annoyed and he turned his towards her.
Misty felt her throat tighten and physical pain in her chest. "But Ash, it's our second and last night of our honeymoon. Don't you want to--"
"Oh for fuck's sake, Misty!" He turned around to face her in the dark and she jumped back, frightened of his raised voice and sudden movement. "We've got our whole fucking lives to have sex! It's not that damn important!"
She felt a tear roll down her cheek and she grabbed her pillow off of the bed. Without a word she slammed the bedroom door shut and angrily pulled out the couch bed in the living room. Not even bothering with sheets or a quilt, she plopped down on it and sobbed.
Misty cried so hard her chest and throat hurt and she hated herself. She hated herself because she was ugly and not sexy enough to seduce her own husband.
After almost an hour of self-loathing she turned on the television, deciding sleep was out of the question tonight. It was fast approaching midnight and she wondered if Brock was still awake. It wasn't unusual for him to be awake at this hour, reading, or watching a late news cast, but then again, she didn't want to bother him.
Knowing him and Lucy, they were probably in the middle of making love since that's all they seemed to do since before they got married. A pang of jealousy roared through her and she looked down at his contact number in her phone.
No, she wouldn't call. What would she say anyway? My husband won't sleep with me. What do I do? No, she was a grown, married woman now and she couldn't go running to older, wiser people about her marital problems.
Instead, she lay her head down on the pillow and tried her best to grasp sleep.
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