It was 3 pm on a Wednesday and Ciara Lewis-Addair had been stuck at her kitchen table for 24 hours. Her long black hair curled in a thick braid over her shoulder and she wore the same slim Dolce & Gabanna jeans and leather jacket she'd worn to take her daughter Zoe to the the airport.
She'd been brewing and drinking French Press raspberry chocolate coffee which had served to keep her awake and jittery so she'd alternated the java with shots of Knappogue Castle single malt from her well stocked bar.
It was officially the day after the storm. She tipped the amber bottle back and gulped down another mellowing shot for her nerves. Her eyes watered as the whiskey slid into her empty belly with a warm slow burn. She poured two more fingers of the liquid amber into her favorite coffee mug. It had been a long hard day and night.
The TV in the family room chattered and buzzed with background noises and commercials as a variety of news anchors and pundits nattered and postured about political fiascos in DC and the state of the US economy. How DID Obama stand in the polls and should Clinton really should run? It was the same old same old on the big screen.
The families stocky long eared Basset Hound, who'd been lovingly named Hound Dog by a six year old Zoe, nudged at her leg impatiently and woofed at her for his daily morning meander through the maple trees.
Baaaroooo! Baaarooo!
Ciara looked at her watch. "Sorry Hound Dog. I need a minute."
He padded to the sliding glass door to push his nose against the cold pane and then ambled back to her feet to lay with his head between his paws. She ruffled his long ears and walked to the door to let him out into the vast fenced yard of swirling snow. The Christmas lights she'd twined over every bush and tree in sight twinkled and glittered their bright white fairy light over the yard and the snowman family she'd built with Zoe and the cousins on New Years day circled her favorite clump of balsam and fraser fir trees.
From the outside her life looked like the picture perfect Christmas card. She sat on her rocker by the window watching Hound Dog poke around the yard. She hugged her knees to her chest as she played and replayed the events of the previous day over and over in her head like a broken record...somehow trying to make sense of things as if filing and ordering them would help.
Christmas break had just ended and her daughter had flown back to Cambridge..Ciara had been sad to see her go but was also excited to get started on the next chapter in her life. As she flew back from the city she'd hummed Jingle Bells and sipped at a sea salt caramel latte and smiled as she'd remembered and cherished the Christmas celebrations.
They'd just had a rambunctious family holiday with Ciara's brothers and all of her nieces and nephews at her parent's Brooklyn home and then had rounded out the holidays with a final family gathering for New Years Eve at Ciara's Vermont Christmas tree farm. Ciara had treasured the memories of her family as they slept and snored in various rooms of the estate farm house. The last day they were together she'd tip toed to the kitchen to whip up a batch of her famous pecan waffles with fresh butter cream and they'd spent the morning of the new year with mimosa toasts to health and happiness and a hilarious round of resolutions and promises they knew they would never keep.
Dad had said "Ah my lasses and laddies...I'm givin' up the drink this year." And he'd hoisted a tumbler of whiskey.
"Here's to a long life and a merry one (another shot) A quick death and an easy one (a beer chaser) A pretty girl and an honest one (a swig of Ma's drink) A cold beer - and another one!" (another shot of whiskey).
Then it was Ma's turn.. "This year I'm gonna relax and give you kids the space yer always askin me for. May the keep you in the palm of His hand, and never close His fist too tight! (a shot and a raised fist in the air).
And then the rest of the family had all chimed in with a variety of resolutions until finally Ciara had toasted in the new year with her favorite Irish toast: "Merry met and merry part, I drink to thee with all my heart and this year...I AM going to write and publish my very first novel!"
"Here! Here! And then another one." And there had been more cheers and laughter all around as they closed out the old and rang in the glorious New Year. She'd been so happy with Chas and Zoe by her side as they all sat round the family table. Life didn't get much better than that.
And then the merry chaos of the holidays had ended and everyone had gone back to their lives. Ciara had not felt the usual maudlin dreariness that often overcame her after the holiday season. The excitement of starting her book shone a glorious light on everything she did. For once in her life...she was going to keep her New Years resolution and follow her dream. Hers...not her daughters...not her husbands...but hers and hers alone.
That was yesterday. Things had changed in a heartbeat.
As she sat with her head in her hands, her thoughts were intermittently interrupted by the buzzing phone with incoming texts and calls from her mother Maureen "Rene" Addair affectionately known to her kids as Ma..
Are you ok?
Please call luv.
Shall I fly up there?
Do you have enough Malt? Despite her misery Ciara had to laugh at the last text..
That had always been the Addair way...soften the edges up with a bit of Irish whiskey.
"Why did I tell her?" Ciara groaned and lowered her head to the antique wood table top. She gently banged her forehead against the solid comforting surface.
"Why? Why? Why?"
She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyelids so hard that colors of blue and green flashed and burned. She was exhausted...she hadn't been able to sleep. It had all been too sudden and instant. This ending of things. Her life as she knew and planned for had gone up in smoke, and the jolt to her system had both shut her down and kept her wide awake for the past 24 hours. It was a disorienting state to be in.
Her entire life reeled forward and backwards in her head like an old family film. She was the only daughter of Chief inspector Peter Addair. She'd enjoyed a rousing and romping Irish catholic childhood with her four brothers full of masses and communions and whiskey and cop talk. Her brothers had all chosen careers in the tradition of their father as police detectives and criminal prosecutors in the city.
Everyone had naturally assumed Ciara would follow suit and initially she had thought about the FBI or the police academy. She'd definitely had the meticulous mind for it but instead she'd gone rogue and decided to study English Lit in Sunny California in hopes of someday writing scripts or novels for a living. And her choices had worked out nicely and safely...perfectly if you were to ask anyone who knew her.
Yes, Ciara had been that girl. She'd led a charmed life. After undergrad at Berkeley she'd gone off to live her hippy dippy (Dad's words) life in Plainfield Vermont with her guitar playing long haired surfer dude (Ma's word) boyfriend. She and Chas had married young and Ciara had taught part time English at a private college for the enlightened and organic intelligentsia. She'd also planted thousands and thousands of Christmas trees and had eventually turned the Addair Estates Christmas tree farm into a profitable business along with the help of several local farmers.
And while yes her brothers and Dad often poked fun of her life at Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners in their Brooklyn townhouse full of Irish Setters and grandchildren, she'd been content with her life choices.
Chas had never lost his love of surfing and had dropped out of school to work on a software startup while Ciara finished her BA. Everyone had told her to leave him...that he was a loser but she'd stayed because she loved him and he'd turned out to be a remarkable entrepreneur and inventor. Many of his apps and software products were commonly used by the internet generation. During their marriage he'd been gone a lot with weekly jaunts to silicon valley and to his Manhattan office by helicopter but he'd always been home for most dinners and pretty much every weekend.
Just last year he'd been listed on Forbes with a networth of 1.5 billion dollars and he had all the toys that went along with that wealth. But from the very beginning Ciara had always insisted the toys stay at their penthouse garage in the city and that their family home in rural Vermont stay low key and simple. She'd wanted to raise Zoe in the country away from the hubbub and glitz of private schools and planes. Her only visible concession to their immense wealth had been to allow a helipad in the furthest east field beyond the vast acreage of Christmas trees so Chas could fly home for dinner each night from wherever he was.
Other than family vacations and monthly visits to shop in the city and visit her parents Ciara was rarely gone from her isolated Christmas tree farm. She was a homebody at heart and didn't enjoy small talk or mindless chit chat very well as evidenced by her awkward presence at the annual company Holiday ball. The well coiffed and polished women had always made her feel out of place no matter how hard she tried. Ciara had always been and always would be a simple jeans and t-shirt kinda gal. And so as Chas' wealth grew and the years marched forward she'd become more and more reclusive. Her inner circle included family and a few cherished friends from high school.
Her self imposed seclusion from the glitterati and fashionable society had occurred naturally when Zoe had been a toddler during the inception of Chas' business. It had been a hectic zany time with nursing and preparing organic meals morning noon and night for their small family and Ciara had felt best as far from the limelight as possible. And Shaka Enterprises had always demanded long hours and commutes from Chas. So the natural responsibility for running the house and taking care of Zoe had fallen to Ciara and she'd embraced the typical busy life of a soccer mom. There had been violin lessons and fencing. There had been theater camps and soccer trips. There had been broccoli and carrots to be grown and cooked and prepared in the best organic fashion. There had been sustainable clothes to shop for and buy. There had been birthday parties and endless streams of sleepovers of the local kids who spent the summer days and weekends at the Addair Estate Christmas tree farm.
And so Ciara's life as a mother and wife had flashed by in an instant. Along the way She'd managed to get her MA in literature and continued to dream of being a writer of great and meaningful novels. But the daily tasks and chores had always pushed her dreams to the next day...and then the day after that until it became a sort of bucket list dream that would happen when Zoe had gone off to college and there was more time.
And oh how she'd planned for the beginning of her great dream. She watered it and coddled it like a rare ghost orchid that would someday make an appearance in her life. Every day she spent an hour or two puttering around in the studio writer's cottage Chas had built for her the Christmas of '93. She'd polished the wooden floors to a high sheen of golden brown. She'd searched for the perfect terra cotta pots and then planted basil, thyme and mint around all the windows. She'd even managed to snag an antique desk rumored to have been written on by none other than Hemingway in some obscure pub.
The years sped by and the studio had become part of her daily routine. It was a shrine to what she wanted to be someday soon...when she wasn't quite so busy being wife and mother. She'd carefully purchased Frida Kahlo prints and smooth reams of paper to tuck into her high school typewriter in case she wanted to go old school and for good measure she'd bought a sleek apple computer with a large flat screen monitor as well to match the one in Chas' office. She put it there as a symbol of their love and connection which she'd hoped to renew when they were alone.
She imagined slow easy mornings of showers with Chas; of Chas carrying her into the studio smelling of that lovely citrus sandalwood soap she always kept in stock for him. Of Chas laying her back on the daybed and pushing her knees apart with his hips. Of his fingers and tongue inside her. His tousled hair in her hands just as they had done when they were younger. Her hips grinding up and open. And Chas moving inside her slowly. She'd imagined it would be as exciting and new as their honeymoon had been.
And then everything got turned upside down. Ciara's comfortable and easy life turned into a clichéd nightmare. Just like that. In one insane and ridiculous moment. Everything. Gone. Like a damned soap opera. The Young and Restless. Days of Our Lives. A stupid mid life crisis. A nothing of nothingness.
Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus as Ma always said.
Yesterday had started innocently enough. They'd had a family breakfast of hot chocolate, coffee and fruit and then hugs and goodbyes from Chas he helped load the luggage and his wife and daughter into his new helicopter; the Sikorsky S-76-C.
He'd chatted with his long time pilot Mikael as Ciara and Zoe settled in and buckled up for the ride. "Get my girls safely to the city. Love you Zoe. See you for dinner at 8 Ciara?"
She'd blown him a kiss. "I'll make Bass and capers. Muuuuaaah!"
She'd truly enjoyed the 2 hour flight with Zoe as they'd chatted about her upcoming classes and her ambitious young plans for the future. Ciara had waved goodbye as Zoe walked through the gate.
She'd swallowed the tears that always came when Zoe flew off into the wild blue yonder of her life and decided to head straight back home. She'd originally planned to spend the afternoon in the city shopping for essentials and a list of things Zoe and Chas had given her but had changed her mind and had Mikael fly her straight back home. She had been too excited to start her Novel and she spun several ideas in her head as she curled in the smooth leather seat sipping her latte. The muted sound of the powerful chopper whomped in the background and she drifted in and out of a sleepy state of planning and dreaming up her first book project.
She tried out a variety of book titles in her head and marvelled at the complete feeling of freedom and comfort she felt. She even came up with a classy new Pseudonym for her first book: Katie Lynn Kelly. This whole mid life crisis empty nest syndrome was for the weak at heart...Ciara found it fantastic and freeing. She'd never been one to change a plan so suddenly as she'd done today. She'd run their life on an organized and precise schedule that had kept things smooth and safe and given her the solid feeling of control. Today was the start of a new day. She'd tossed her lists and plans right out the window. She'd giggled...it felt nice.
She'd go straight to the studio cottage to write all afternoon after which she'd cook up Chas' favorite meal of Sea Bass Oscar filet with white wine lemon butter sauce, lump crab and capers with grilled white baby asparagus. Maybe a nice creme brulee for dessert and then....the red dress and heels.
She got home shortly after one pm and grabbed the mail on her way up the twisty tree lined lane. There were two courier cars in the drive. Chas used them almost daily to shuttle sensitive documents and prototypes.
Ciara was actually happy he was busy with work and that he'd decided to work from home today. She'd have plenty of time to hide away in her sun lit studio and start on the rough draft of Salted Tides (working title)...an intelligent mystery for thinking readers. She stood at the door and breathed a great sigh...the next new and exciting chapter of her life began....NOW!
She opened the door and reverently tiptoed into her dream space through the small mud room just off the wrap around porch...almost afraid it was too good to be true. This is where it would happen...her writing...everything she'd waited so long to begin because of her duties as wife and mother to Chas and Zoe. Well, no regrets because today was a new chapter.
She turned to walk into her studio and there had been her beautiful husband Chas between the thighs of a leggy gorgeous blonde with perfect rounded breasts and perky pink nipples. She'd walked in to her studio and there they were. The blonde girl with delicate ankles and shining straight hair had parted her legs on Ciara's day bed. The bright Guatemalan throw she'd bought on vacation last year was crumpled under a strangers beautiful apple round ass.
The strange woman on her bed was slowly sliding her fingers in and out of herself and Chas was kneeling there softly groaning like he always did when he was turned on. They were so into each other that they didn't hear Ciara as she'd stood there transfixed and frozen in time.
She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe.
In her head she was screaming and running and smashing glasses and plates. In her head she was slashing faces and mouths with a switchblade. In her head she was pulling out guns and shooting things and bashing in cheekbones and ripping off those pouty lips with her bunched and bloody fists. Instead...in the here and now she just stood shaking like a scared bunny.
She should have run but instinctively she knew if she turned away there would always be a small chance she'd forgive Chas. No this ending of her life as she knew it needed to be seen and heard and burned into her memory because in her heart she was slowly dying...slowly drowning. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe. She couldn't move.
"I can't....why? What? I can't." She whispered to herself...to God to anyone who could make this go away. Her heart wanted her to run far away but her head told her to stay...to stay and witness her life going up in flames.
So she'd stood there and watched as the blonde with no name slid her fingers in and out of her smooth hairless mound grinding against her own fingers and then trailing them into Chas' mouth. And Ciara feeling naïve and childish had wondered then...is this the fashion now? Smooth and hairless like a barbie doll?
And then Chas had lifted the blonde up to sit on his beautiful curved cock. And Ciara watched as the blonde gasped with pleasure and slid him all the way into her. And Ciara remembered that feeling. The way he'd gone so far into her that he barely had to move in and out. That's why she'd always craved him from the very beginning; why she'd never been able to say no to him. It was why she'd given the youngest and best years of her life to him. It had never been about the money...it had always been about the way he filled her so completely. She closed her eyes and gasped and then began to softly cry as she watched what she'd thought had been her forever husband make love to another woman.
Her heart shattered and splintered. Her belly heaved as she choked down nausea and tears. Still, she didn't turn and go. She stayed and watched him slide in and out of this other woman wet and languorous. She watched as his triceps and abs contracted as they always did. She watched as the blonde began to lose control of herself. She watched as Chas rolled to his back and held the blondes round ass in his hands pulling her down. She watched the woman's hips rotating as she leaned back rubbing herself slowly in rhythm with Chas. Ciara sobbed silently as she watched them both both shudder with orgasm.
"God...oh god baby...oh yeah..."
"Oh...you like it hard don't you baby?"
And then as if that wasn't bad enough Chas had greedily reached for more and knelt down with his face between the other woman's legs. Gently sucking and licking the core of her. Sliding his fingers in and out of her and then sliding up to look in her eyes.
"Do you want more baby? Do you want to play with my toys?"
"Yes...please."
And then he'd pulled out a smooth strand of pink pearls from a velvet pouch on the floor. He slid the strand of pink into the blondes ass one by one and the blonde had cried out and rolled to her hands and knees so Chas could pick up a golden vibrating penis and slide it into the center of her. The blonde quivered and shook and broke out in a sheen of finely beaded sweat. She tilted her ass into the air pulsing and begging for more.
"Chas darling...let me cum. Please...baby please." She begged him for release tilting her plump cheeks in the air.
Then Chas, flushed and panting had slowly begun to pull the pearls from inside her.
"Chas...lover you know how I like it..." In a fine British accent she called out his name. "Oh Chas!"
Chas had always been a sucker for all things English. How ironic that he'd shared that love with Ciara on trips and family vacations in London and the English countryside.
And then Chas had pushed the vibrating penis even deeper into the blonde and held it still as he touched her g-spot and reached around to pinch and roll her nipples between his fingers.
"Tell me I own you...tell me baby."
And she'd said "I'm yours darling...I'm yours. Now please..." She quivered so clearly near orgasam again that her thighs were shaking and she reached down to caress him. "Please....please...."
Clearly they'd played this game many times before and the thought made Ciara's heart go cold. She'd finally seen enough to be done with this man forever. She cleared her throat loudly and said "Honey I'm home" and then she'd turned and slammed the door as hard as she could so Chas would know that she was gone baby gone. The least she could do was deprive them of another earth shattering orgasm.