Love Is What You Make It

20. Time Flies Faster (And Yet Too Slow To Master)

***

          Summer passes, then fall—winter comes again, and Jack manages to get the time off he needs to take Amanda and himself up to Boston, whereupon they break into Lacey and Thomas's apartment (Thomas always leaves a key taped under the stoop) and greet them in the evening with a dinner of pasta and meatloaf (their respective favorites), much to their shock and awe.

          Jack, who's closest to the door when Lacey turns on the light, ends up with a black eye after Thomas yelps and punches him in the face, but it's totally worth it.

           Jack films everything, back in his element, and in retaliation Thomas arms Lacey with shrer camcorder and films Jack as he films them.

          It's a nice week—silly and fun, and Jack can't believe it's been so long since they've seen each other in person, can't believe it'll be another six months until he sees them again.   It tugs as his heartstrings, and when it's over he kisses them both passionately in the open street, not pausing when he and Thomas, lips locked, both flip off a douche shouting slurs from a car window.  They couldn't give two shits, they're young and in love and the world is their oyster.

          The plane ride home is lonely, and Jack and Amanda lend each other comfort as best they can.

          They sleep when they get home, and the next day, while Jack is folding laundry freshly brought up from the machines in the basement, Amanda walks in and drapes a newly finished knit blanket over Jack's shoulders.

          He laughs, setting down a pair of pants and brushing it from his shoulders.  "It's like seventy degrees outside," he chuckles, and carefully folds it, then gives it back to her, kneeling slightly as he does so.  "My Lady."

          "But Sir," she says, with a demeanor very close to sweet, "Did you take note of the symbology?"

          "No," he says, and leans against the table, laundry half-forgotten.   "Explain it to me."

          Amanda holds the blanket up by two corners and unfurls it with the flick of her wrist.  It's a bit too big for the kitchen floor, but she lays it out as best she can and explains each of the symbols as she goes down from the top left to the bottom right.

          The ones at the top are ones he recognizes—the poly symbol, bi, pan, polyamory, male, female, intergender—but at the bottom are ones he doesn't recognize, which cause him to blush as the meaning becomes clear—from the many cultures and religions to which the four subscribe, the last are symbols of fertility.

           Amanda looks embarrassed when she finishes explaining, yet still retains her aloof stance, proud and defiant, steeled for rejection.   Jack rubs his lips together and cocks his head, unable to keep himself from smiling.

           "Are you—"  He clears his throat.  "Are you asking me to have sex with you?"

          Amanda swallows and licks her lips before meeting his eye, nodding stolidly.

           "I am."

           "And—sorry if I'm misinterpreting your polyamorous fertility blanket—Are you trying to say you want to have a baby?"  Amanda makes a high pitched creaking sound at the back of her throat and clenches her fists at her sides.

           "I—I understand that now, with the four of us separated, is not necessarily a good time to start any kind of family.   I do—I do love you," she says, and manages to meet his eye as she says this.  She adds, "I love all of you.  And these kinds of decisions should be made with all four of us in close quarters, but—I'm in my forties now.  I always wanted children, and time is kind of ... running out.   I thought ... it might be time to ... discuss it."

           Jack's expression goes soft as he closes the distance between them.  He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, her hands resting—still half-clenched—on his shoulders as she kisses back.

          "I love you too," he says when he withdraws, running his thumb along her cheek.

          "I know," she says, and chuckles when he tweaks her nose.

          "You're right," he says, pulling her tight against him.   "Now's not the time to discuss kids—after Lacey and Thomas are out of school, we'll give it some serious thought.  I'm told I'd make a great Dad."

         "I look forward to it."   She kisses him, setting a steady, sensual rhythm with her lips as she threads her fingers through his hair, his hands trailing down to her waist.

         "Is this—your first time?" Jack asks between kisses, and she laughs, at him but also with him.

         "Yes, Jack.   At the age of forty-two, I am still a virgin, pure and stately."

         "You spent a long time in the military.   And locked up," he defends, but she silences him with another kiss and a now-questing hand.

          "I did," she agrees.   "I'm a little rusty, but I had a life before I went into the service.  I was a very attractive woman once."

          "Pfff."   Jack tries to keep his cool as she trails her finger along what Lacey likes to call his Happy Trail.  "Still are.  You're fucking gorgeous."

          "Shut up," she orders.

          "Make me," he retorts, and she does.