Author's Brief Note or a wee spoiler before starting the reading journey: A new character is going to appear in the chapter. Be ready for abundance of dynamics!
Previously on Wings of Light:
"Andrea, do not talk like that! When the things are too late,therefore yar daughter will profoundly regret what she did so that to alienatefrom ya!"
"I hope she realizes sooner or later she has herown mother, who strongly loves her and cares about her to death. But I can do nothing about it."
---
"That's true, Maddie! It affected me negatively."
"Not only negatively,honey! But also positively, I didn't mean tobehave like a parent, whilst you as the kid but do you realize finally youcan't trust anyone even if you're head over heels in love with them?"
---
"Oh! Brother? Martha?"
"Cayden! I'm sopleased to see you, my brother! I know what ya did,bro!"
---
"Nobody is saint in this world, rara avis!Believe me, there are tough times when you question yourself and your deedswhen you must worry the least. Do not question your deeds and yourself, becausethere are much worse things which will escalate the level of your anxiety! Theanxiety looks ugly on you! I'm forgiving you for what you did to me withthis psychopath stuff."
"Thank ya for yar understanding andforgiveness!"
--- *** ---
--- The Next Morning ---
--- 5th of February, 1966 ---
The wee hours of the early February morning were embraced by the mild winter breeze as it gently tickled with its dispersing invisible chilly waves the former members of the clergy's exposed fleshes.
Their food and mugs of already cooled chocolate abided untouched like corpses of formal mortals, which were left for a while without being gathered for a duration or otherwise a cremation. The blonde's head lay on the younger man's lap as his muscular, secure arms scooped her in a loose embrace since they'd lost consciousness and utter control on their moonlight picnic the last night.
They puffed muffled light snores that buzzed their lips like the sluggish buzzing of a car engine, whereas their frail lungs pumped as their faint quantity of oxygen during their kipping condition was produced.
Once the both former pious members of the church came to their senses followed by mere morning breaths yawns, zinging their lips and rubbing with their balled fists their still drowsy eyes, they didn't get from the picnic blanket as they relished the wee romantic moment they were sharing since the night before.
"Good morning, Tim!" The Bostonian's drastically rapid haphazard shift of her caramel brown pools up to the pair of chocolate brown sent her shivers down her body of unspeakable pleasure and sweetness, her stomach faintly aggressively growled in embarrassment as it had been hours since she had eaten anything. Even any tiny quantity of chunk.
"Morning, rare bird!" Honeyed with a British accent mumble tickled with its warm breath her scalp as Timothy leaned down to graze with his pale-pinkish, soft as velvet lips her temple with a tender, morning kiss. In the meantime, the Bostonian molted delicately in the peck on her temple as she fluttered shut in slits shape her eyelids once she felt her former lover's lips contacting her milky as vanilla epidermis.
"It feels so good when he does that." An inner voice echoed as the sole echo, unduly audible in a godforsaken, dilapidating façade that hasn't been functioning not just for years, however, for decades. "Especially when he kisses your temple with his soft, pink lips. It's as sweet as a heaven, isn't it, Judy?" The same inner voice, mimicking the middle-aged mother's as if a spectral was actually conversating with her sent her electrifying paroxysm and shivers.
It sedated her bones and muscles as their stamina was succumbed by the sweetness of the forehead and platonic kisses, which spell was inescapably invincible, lethal.
"How about if these luscious, pink lips are pressed on your lips, hardening the kiss in a sultry one and his wet, pristine tongue ushers ya to duel each other?" Sanguine pigment tinted her chubby, well-defined cheeks as sweltering heat crawled beneath her facial skin. The inner, fiendishly succumbing with its desirable reverie mumbled into her mind.
The former sister of the church ducked her head meekly awkwardly, allowing its sinful sandstorm of thoughts to plague her especially shortly after when she was no longer drowned in her beauty slumber.
"Or rather, his insatiably pink lips gingerly grazing yar labia until they lower to yar hard clit and core as his tongue is savoring yar sweet juices, and his teeth are nipping the hardness of its bundle of nerves."
"Come on, Judy! If you're feeling this for Timothy, just do it or take the next step at least." Another inner voice buzzed through her cells.
"S-Stop it! Everything has the right time for whatever is it." The older lady muttered under her breath which was solely audible to her, thanks to her exceeding, self-conscious control over her decibels.
"Is everything okay, Jude?" Suddenly, the former man of the cloth noted his love interest's porcelain, still youthful face was naturally powdered in flush which caught them off guard at the same time as the posed question earned momentarily Jude's attention.
"Yeah, yeah! Everything is fine, Tim! Ya mustn't be that concerned." The Bostonian's brightest caramel glinted as the question triggered her humble gut, designating up to her throat.
"He's deadly concerned about you, regardless of what's on yar mind." One of the inner voices reemerged into her head as a recurring eerie whisper in the pitchest-black darkness. "Or what rather makes ya blush to yar guts."
"I wish ya stopped telling me what's going on because I truly know the real Timothy Howard. He's really caring, selfless, persistent and loving man. He isn't as deadly concerned as yar tiny voice hyperbolically portrays him." She wished she could face the inner voice's true face, telling into it what was dying as mumble on her tongue.
"It was unexpected when I fell asleep that abruptly." Ruefulness jeopardized her bashful excuse for falling asleep the night before into his arms as they expected to spend hours under the moonlight widely awake, spilling the tea.
Even commenting on the pettiest, thought-provoking detail behind the esthetically nocturnity that was captured in the corner of their photogenic eye.
"I'm sorry." Even the pettiest, an almost pointless apology would resuscitate Timothy's stubbornness, persuading her on the contrary that apologies for falling asleep or pointless stuff shouldn't even be part of her care to poke her tongue tip.
"There's nothing you should be sorry for, Jude!" The former religious man of the cloth clarified softly, combing delicately, feathery a grassland of gilt tresses between his adroit, long fingers, admiring the crispy softness of her long wavy gilt hair. The gardenias and rose aroma of her hair was as succumbing as the forbidden fruit in Eden's green, isolated from any corner of the world highlands garden.
"The excuse for falling asleep abruptly into my arms," A wry, grimly jubilant chuckle flexed his oral caverns and jawline. "Makes absolutely no sense at all! It's perfectly normal sometimes to allow its natural needs to command your body and muscles as they relax."
"To relax? Don't be ridiculous, Timothy!" A huskily sarcastic snicker wasn't oppressed by the former holy woman, rubbing gingerly, lightly her temple with her fingertips, soothing for an eventual headache or migraine. "Edward was left without any supervision as we were outside all night. Just imagine what mess may have happened to that adorable cherub angel! Through the night especially when we weren't the next room's door to witness the high-pitched cries of hunger or another primary need of his."
Hassle retaliated as a bonus attack to Timothy's cusping optimism and realism, in order to reassure his former lover. Although her instincts exhorted Jude to go inside the two-story mansion and go upstairs to check on her son by taking care of him with his common breakfast, bathing and spending time with him, on the other hand, her guts loafed her. She rather readily relished spending her leisure time with her love interest, letting her comfort zone predominate over her craves to snuggle into his strong, muscly arms that ensured her reliable security.
"At least, he's slightly older than he used to be in the first weeks of his fresh life. He's changing!"
"Whether he has changed or not at all, I really need to check on him. It's seriously my responsibility. Or," In the interval, mildly vexed growl quivered her bared teeth, due to Timothy's lack of responsibility for Edward. Her grimaced glare was cast as a curse at his chocolate brown pools, which shimmered far from dull, nevertheless, aggressively vivid nuances. Dumbfoundingly scintillating. "Yar the one, otherwise, who's also a parent and has the entire responsibility to take care of our angel."
Meanwhile, her baleful growl placated as they got from the picnic blanket and immediately as they commenced to take the things back into the house. Judy took the mugs with one hot chocolate, whereas Timothy's hands were occupied with the emptied plates.
"Alright! I got it. You're undeniably right!" Timothy preferred rather to evade the feuding bickers that verged to hostilize them again just like with Cayden and the manipulations before fleeing the madhouse. Further, the younger man wasn't a keen fan of the heated discussions and bickers since they were envenoming his nerves, permitting his adrenaline to proliferate unrealistically, despite his nonchalant character. "I didn't mean to argue with you or something, you're doubtlessly right! It's urgent to look after him."
As soon as the former devotional members of the church had brought back every single item that was part of their moonlight picnic, the former licentious jazz nightclub singer towered the stairway to the second floor hastily without wasting any valuable time to see her son. All she could hear in the muted silence hallway was his uncontrollable blubber, colliding like radioactive waves through the walls.
"Oh shit! The poor sunshine!" The former holy woman muffled a frustrated mutter, touching her lips as she opened the children's room door. Guilty conscience and self-hatred flushed the constricted chest of the middle-aged mother at the sight of her desolated baby son. "I'm so sorry for leaving ya without supervision, my little cupcake! I didn't mean truly to do it, but sometimes Mommy's being tempted by her personal needs."
In the interim, she excused herself in a gloomily jeering manner, rimming the guilty conscience that was eating her slowly, consciously. Her elvish, secure hands scooped in a warm, doting hug her ray of sunshine by lifting up and changing his diapers in a jiffy. Subsequently, sitting on the edge of the bed a couple of undone buttons leaked like sagging icicles, verging to topple with its razor-edged glacial ridge.
"Come on, baby boy! Ya need to be fed in a jiff." The blonde cupped the infant's head, encouraging his both wee, amusingly warm hands to cup her breast, poising it for his tiny lips to spoon the erected, nonetheless sore mauve nipple, suckling its natural breast milk. His big hazelish-brown pools, fueled with babyish peckishness pigmented the sheerest, the most vibrant hazelish nuances as his hunger beared a semblance of a baby grabber.
"M-M," The syllable was slowly and surely dying in the infant's mumble, focused on breastfeeding as anything else that had a highly distracting effect was oblivious to the little boy.
"Good boy, Edward! I'm relieved it wasn't too late when I came here to feed ya." Her slim, doting fingers warily caressed her ray of sunshine's head along with his sparse curly blond hair that had ambiguous types of touches.
Distracting and encouraging. Distracting since these platonic caresses weren't promising to pay attention to the recent task at all. Encouraging, in order to soothe him in a simple touch, finding comfort and peace.
"Once again I'm so sorry for leaving ya without supervision since the last night. " The softness of her firm Bostonian accent contrasted the velvetness, pigmenting each tiny, subtle note of her apology.
"He's too young to understand you, stupid! He's just an almost five-month-old infant. Don't ya get it?" The same inner voice recurred with its antagonizing tonality in its rejoinder, tingling her ears.
In spite of the defiant retaliation of her inner voices, the middle-aged lady preferred to abide neutral and not utter anything under her breath as if she was nigh some stranger, on the contrary, he would take her for a lunatic, whose exact residence for people like her should be a nuthouse.
All of a sudden, masculine, sufficiently audible footsteps emanated from the corridor the sole person with the same footsteps was recognizable as the former promiscuous nightclub singer. It was her love interest.
"Perhaps he has finished with the task to clear the terrain, where our moonlight picnic took its place the last night." Judy's other inner voice convinced her otherwise with mellow tonality.
"May I come?" A handful of innocently potent door taps snapped Jude out of her train of thoughts by glimpsing as she rotated her head to the shut door, nibbling on the silken skin of her bottom, plumpish lip loathely. "Jude?"
"Y-Yes! Come in."
"Oh goodness! I finished the rest of the task and I'm so relieved Edward is doing fine." At that moment, Timothy stepped into the children's room by closing and shutting the door behind him as his light footsteps traced invisible tracks on the ground, ambling up to his rare bird and their love child.
Haphazardly, in the corner of his eye, he could behold the stark fullness, and roundness of her breast fogging his blizzard of thoughts by transfixing on the completely innocent scenery of a mother allowing her child to suckle its breast milk.
"He's fine. I found him blubbering until it was me, who soothed him." A pit of relief arrayed in the middle of his stomach.
"That's good!"
Who could blame Timothy for his equivocal gape at such scenery? On one hand, his reverie fogged him with the sheer viridity of a mother, nursing her angel. Isn't it just lovely the scenery?
On the other hand, his reverie tantalized him with explicitly graphic images of if he put himself in the baby's shoes and his baby pinkish, luscious lips were spooning her erected, sore nipple by cupping the fullness of her breast beneath his palm as her muffled, soreful groans and moans loosened her jaw, unzipping her lips.
"It's just a mother breastfeeding her child. There's nothing wrong with that." One of the inner voices echoed in Timothy's mind, resembling an announcement to the entire city to evacuate as soon as possible, due to occurred danger. "What's wrong with your thoughts, Timothy?"
In the meanwhile, the once holy priest shook his head, dwelling out of the reverie realm to reemerge in reality. His lips pursed in childish embarrassment to conceal any wee, tangible hints, in case, if his rare bird caught him having impure thoughts, indicated on his facial features, besides in his abysmal sandstorm of thoughts. Nevertheless, the inescapable mild pinkish powder on his cheeks was amidst the hints of his embarrassment to conceal the tangible evidence of the vivid images, flooding his mind.
"No, no, don't listen to my twin, who has such disagreements with me! Her breasts are still insatiable, even after giving birth. Allow your imagination to be parallel to reality!" A second inner voice vocalized the younger man, bewildering him to bones.
"Anything wrong, Timothy? Huh?" The middle-aged woman successfully snapped him out of his reverie where he was trapped by invincible graphic, explicitly erotic images, whirling and twirling. She cast a scrutinizing squint at his blushed parchment, yet young-looking face, biting her lip. "Ya seemed so distracted as if ya ogled into," Eventually, she joined the choir of the flushed face, exhaling sharply. "My breast and our son."
Meantime, his lips popped up as if they exploded in sheepishness, couldn't repress a smug, uncontrollably mischievous smirk, kissing his lips.
"I didn't mean to. It's just me sometimes." A bland, blameless excuse was vomited in a low voice.
"It's perfectly normal to see a woman nursing her child, Timothy! Is that bothering ya?"
"N-No! Of course, not!"
"Then, what is the problem?" In the meantime, the blonde bleated a yelp once she sensed Edward nipping her nipple too firmly between his still-growing teeth. "Ouch! Dammit!" She mumbled very softly, meekly, in order that the five-month-old child not hear his mother's cussing.
"He bit you." Meanwhile, the younger man quirked his thick eyebrow puzzly.
"He did. It hurts so much and that's why it's so sore." Stoicness was her face's armor, biting reluctantly, unintentionally her tongue with her anterior teeth to subdue the pain. "I should seriously go to the doctor and to prescribe me a special lotion for that scar."
"The afterbirth scar?"
"Yeah! It doesn't look good on my skin and I know it's slightly late since it has been four months after delivering the baby, but it's better than never."
"Do whatever you think is the best for you but even with scars all over your body, you're still beautiful!" The former priest combed with his comb his messy, scruffy chestnut hair, glancing at the dressing table's mirror by self-consciously paying attention to the manipulated cloning, reflexed on the glass of the mirror.
"Bullshit!" Shortly after the former holy woman finished feeding her baby son, she placed her son on her lap as he poised, whereas her dexterous, versatile fingers were buttoning back her shirt's buttons promptly. "There's a ginormous difference between a twenty-year-old and a forty-five-year-old woman, Timothy! The younger one is going to look more beautiful with one or even with numerous scars, nevertheless, if it's an older woman, otherwise, she doesn't care anymore if she's still beautiful or with an abundance of scars, because it's not part of her care anymore. She doesn't care what the others will say about her physical looks and her fashion style."
She puffed uneasily by taking Edward into her arms, getting from the bed and walking away from the room as her forthcoming destination was the kitchen.
"Maddie will be the one, who's stunning with scars or not unlike me."
"Maddie is still a child, Judy! I'd never be with her, just because of her youthful beauty." In the interval, the former man of the cloth escorted his love interest as they fled the children's room in no time, descending the stairs. "Maddie is only a friend of ours. Moreover, the age gap between me and Maddie is indisputably big."
"Just admit it she's gorgeous!" At that moment, they set foot in the kitchen as the Bostonian put in a high chair their son, whilst she strolled up to the refrigerator to pick up the necessary ingredients for a sloppy breakfast.
"She's just pretty and that's all." Timothy's direct response flushed Jude's contracted rib cage after closing the refrigerator's door as the ingredients lay motionlessly on the countertop. Little did she know the British compatriot's sexual attraction was towards more mature women, who were approximately Jude's age rather than younger ones, who could be much younger sisters of his. Meantime, his mammoth, secure hands stroke delicately his son's soft as satin head, admiring the crispy, sparseness of his golden hair.
"I'm pretty impressed by yar answer, Timothy! I haven't expected so far yar attraction to be towards older women." A devilish wink was shot at him as she turned to him for a split second, whilst making breakfast. "What makes ya like them better than the younger ones, who're nubile enough?" A husky, sarcastic giggle unzipped her lips as his chocolate brown irises darted to his rara avis, spotting each petty detail of hers. "Is it because of their maturity or the respect that oozes of them like aura?"
In the meanwhile, the blonde resumed her utterance, chewing on her lip as Timothy ogled his chocolate brown eyes at every wriggling part of her muscles even immobile ones. Such as the carved swan-shaped back with her rear, being an ideal complect in one with her lion mane of unkempt, greasy honey tresses, piled up on her upper back as honey autumn, crispy leaves pile.
"Well," He swallowed hard a solid lump, formed in his throat by clearing his throat afterward. "They're definitely mature as they've already built their own value system with their priorities. They don't seek any attention from the men and boys at all." A stammer curled upon his lips in a choir. "They just want to be respected and loved especially if they're lonely. They have a lot of experience as they've fought a variety of ordeals through their roller coaster."
"Good points!" The older woman evoked, swaying idly her hips which aroused the former holy man's crotch as it highly affected his male anatomy momentarily. Every motion of her curves was like a somer curse, cast on him as an inevitable spell. "What else?" She insisted more, followed by an abrupt exhale. "What makes ya to like them more than the younger ones? Huh?"
"Because their characters are already developed as in every part of the life you have the chance to develop your character whether for better or worse, depending on your experience and the ordeals you were through."
His monologue commenced, listing rationally, and philosophically the reasons that made his attraction to the representatives of the opposite sex in their older years more the center of his attention and interest, unlike the younger ones.
"The younger ones are nothing compared to them or they're scandalously provocative by judging their youthful beauty and their demand for attention to crawl in some stranger man's bed. The majority of them seek attention and approval physically and their pride lits up as soon as they receive tons of compliments. They don't care how much you respect them. All they care is to taunt with their diabolical youthful grace by crawling in the bed sheets with their prey and then dump it as a piece of garbage."
Even when the once holy priest emphasized certain words that rarely zinged his lips, flapping its hallowed wings of his confidence, fleeing away from his heart as its unholy sheepishness enveloped it. His cheeks were tinted in roseate colorant as sweltering heat crept underneath his facial skin.
"They don't know how to flirt. They're like immature plants. They can't touch as you know." He bit his lip. A smug, seductive grin carved the middle-aged mother's rosy-coloured, dry lips, without turning to her former lover as she was beyond flattered by his philosophical response. "And they try to look perfect into every man's eyes and render the other women jealous of their looks. Belittiling them as if they're nothing than a human waste."
"It makes fantastic sense what ya have just said by judging how perfect they want to look like those little girls. Mary Eunice was much different than the rest of the youth. She wasn't demanding goddamn attention and her head wasn't brainwashed with the fixed idea of seducing boys, ya know!" The vivid memories of her once favorite young nun plagued her cells and mind as crystal, salty tears sprung up into her frail eyelids, verging to pour down her cheeks at the thought of her.
"She was such a precious and taintless soul. She was much different than the other girls for sure! I can see how much you love and appreciate her purity. It was such a shame the demon didn't leave her body earlier so that to bring her with us to this house earlier."
"It was even shame, who threw her from high. Isn't it ironic, huh?"
"Jude, not again with these bickers! I'm done with this. She insisted on releasing her and she's too weak to combat the trials."
"No matter what she said or what she exactly wanted, she was like my daughter figure, if ya don't get it!" A grunt was heaved from her throat, constricting her jawline. "It's unbelievably insane all that!"
"So as I prayed my heart for her every day after the death took away two souls. The devil's and her pure one.The real Mary Eunice's." Even when Timothy felt hopeless about winning an argument against his rara avis being consoled when he lowered his hand from the young boy's head down to his cheek, caressing the already formed tiny dimples. Edward Ralph was his last hope to find comfort.
Optimism and realism cusped in his honeyed voice, glimpsing at the wall clock, scanning it immediately the time as it read approximately "9:30 am" in the morning. He leaned down to pepper his son's cheeks with affectionate, feather kisses, grazing them with his pale-pinkish, soft-as-cream lips.
"But you don't have any clue what she did to me."
"Mary Eunice?" A wry, husky snicker wasn't underestimated by the former holy woman as she awaited impatiently to serve the breakfast on the plates and settle them on the kitchen table. "Think twice before spilling it out, Timothy! The April Fools' Day is coming soon and if yar about to come out with something creatively hilarious, then, ya have yar chance then."
"It's not a joke. Don't be childish! You have to listen to me!" Suddenly, his decibels mellowed from nonchalant up to rueful as melancholic tinges dappled his caution, whereas the bittersweet, crystal tears lightly stained the older woman's porcelain, yet young-looking complexion. "When the devil was living still inside her, I tried to exorcise it by myself and guess what!" Then, earned his love interest's incredulous look, tattooed on her tear-stained face, ambling up to her as she didn't move a single muscle.
Silence arched between the both adults for a split second as dabbed with a thumb the tears, looking down at her face, admiring her ethereal, ageless grace.
"She used an odd spell so that to be laid down on your bed and I was raped then. She did unbelievably insane stuff to me by talking fiendish baloney and robbing me of what I was. She corrupted my virtue though for my luck I gave my virtue to you as a loving woman."
"In brief, she violated ya on my own bed?"
"Yes, I was." The British aristocrat bobbed his head, affirming her rhetoric question through a shamefaced purse, wedging his lips. "Believe me or not, you remember that I asked for your council."
"Yes, I remember perfectly! And I was the one, who I told ya to kill her."
"Exactly! So see, who advised me to get rid of the Satan? I did what you exactly told me, Jude!" His berry-coloured lips produced a tearful, low voice.
"You're not only a victim of rape, but I used to be either. What a coincidence!"
"For being raped on the same bed." All of a sudden, the former aspiring Monsignor burst out sobbing uncontrollably as salty, crystal tears tumbled down his well-defined cheeks as if heavy rain poured down, thus soaking everything. "I'm deadly sorry for being so trustless at first when ya told me I'm not the only one, who used to be a rape victim."
"It's alright! I'm fine." His chin perched on the top of her head, snuggling their chests as his potent, muscular arms dangled around her spine, whereas hers were thrown around his muscly, broad shoulders. "It's unbelievable what horrendous stuff has befallen both of us on the same bed. Isn't it just ironic?"
"It's definitely ironic. I can't agree more." In the meantime, Jude's sniffle was solely subdued in the vacuum. "Do ya know what, Timothy?"
"Hmm?" He thrummed softly through the tears as he blotted the last drying tears with a thumb.
"It's okay to cry. Every human being needs to cry. Even if we, the women are crying more often, the men are allowed to cry too a bit. They aren't just weak or giving up in ease." Meantime, the Bostonian's petite, consoling in a single touch hand rubbed the muscles of Timothy's upper back, in order to alleviate him. "They just have emotions to pour after fighting so much. Or rather, something has screwed them so much." Her hand faintly patted his upper back's muscle, emboldening his sob to subjugated in a jiffy.
"Thank you for your understanding and counsel, Jude! I couldn't appreciate it more with your strong support!" At that moment, they broke off the hug as they took their time to admire one another's facial features in a slight, benevolently serene smile, sketched across their lips as the breakfast was oblivious for the former holy woman.
"Don't be silly, Tim! Since ya comprehended how my goose was cooked by that prick and ya listened to every fragment of my past, then, it means ya can count on me when it comes up to a piece of advice or sharing yar story with me!" All of a sudden, the younger man glanced at the scrambled eggs as they bore a semblance as if they were already ready to be served on the plates, quirking quizzically his eyebrow which poured confusion into the former nun's face, in fact, his focus was darted to something else. The breakfast.
"I didn't mean to distract you or something, but I think the breakfast is already ready." In the meanwhile, the former licentious jazz nightclub singer drifted her pair of big, feline honey-brown eyes to the cooker as the scrambled eggs weren't burnt, causing a nervous nip on her bottom lip.
"Oh damn! Yeah, I almost forgot about the eggs." The middle-aged lady mouthed blandly as she stopped the cooker by stirring the eggs once again as vegetables and cheese were adorning them.
"Do you need some help with serving the breakfast on the table?"
"No, thanks! I can do it on my own." A reassuring, strong-willed smile supported her lips as she was serving the scrambled eggs on the plates, whilst Timothy whirled behind her restlessly, due to the fact he wanted to participate in the housework.
"No need to! You have a baby and you deserve rest to do such housework all over here." Meantime, a mischievously daredevil, assuring smile danced across his lips as he took both plates with the scrambled eggs, consequently, settling them on the dining table as Edward ogled at them since he longed to behold his parents not just as an unwed couple with an abundance of disagreements. The sole thing the young boy wanted more than anything was for Jude and Timothy to be married and achieve family harmony and peace at last.
"Oh God, Monsignor!" The middle-aged mother scoffed, giggling quietly, girlishly like a schoolgirl as she took the silverware spoons by approaching the dining table until both former members of the clergy were seated lastly. "I don't need yar help at all. I've always dealt by myself with the trials in my entire damn life and now yar trying to wipe my ass in the past five months since we've situated here."
Even when the older woman was ironic and she thought the former Monsignor's help in the housework wasn't necessary at all, nonetheless she was deeply touched by his interest and his improvement in the name of their toxic relationship's development for the better. His obvious selflessness, benevolence, concern and love were the crucial symptoms of their relationship ebbing off its toxicity which it possessed before.
"So as you've been through many ordeals, therefore it's high time somebody overlooks your stubbornness and aids you with what's needed. It's not okay to pressure yourself with anything which can even somebody else take part in and save your efforts and pressure!" In the interim, he scooped his first bite of scrambled eggs with fresh vegetables and cheese, throughout munching them after his utterance, savoring its effortlessly scrumptious masterpiece which Jude had made within a quarter an hour only or even less.
"Do you get me?"
"I-I do, but ya know already what I despise more than anything." The blonde evoked out after masticating her first bite from the delicious breakfast, peeping at her ray of sunshine as her smile blossomed once she met Edward's alleviating, nonchalant face. "To be pitied or someone to put their noses into my business when it at least must concern them. They owe me nothing as so as I to them."
"I know the majority of mankind don't deserve any quantity of your trust, however, at least trust these from your inner circle who truly deserve it."
Abruptly, he earned her eagerly attentive look, donning her porcelain, ageless complexion as her lips were sealed with the second bite of the breakfast, lingering on her tongue, seizing her cheeks.
"Give them a chance to prove themselves not just as to diminish your pressure and efforts to bang your head for anything that necessitates it, but," He paused as he sipped his glass of fresh, cool water as it gulped manipulated into his throat. "But to deem them as something special or not exactly special. Because it's up to you who's special or not in your life."
--- *** ---
The months flew just like a swarm of butterflies in the vacuum.
It has been almost half a year since the accident with the slit throat, which was the essential reason why the former cop, Frank McCann, left Briarcliff as he moved to Vermont for a better life and to cleanse his whirlpool of thoughts from the sinister memories he had by working in the madhouse, the once possessed juvenile sister of the church and the doctor of science, Dr. Arden.
The former police officer has already purchased a humble, however, conveniently aesthetic and lovely cabin in Vermont's countryside as the rest of his remarkable paraphernalia was already collected by his both bare hands, being part of his recent property. His daughters, Stephanie and Sienna were already grown-up young adults, who were educating themselves in Connecticut's universities for a handful of years. Last but not least, Frank lost his wife, Aurora, due to a vicious, inept car accident when his daughters were at the beginning of their adolescence.
Even when the middle-aged man was residing in Vermont's countryside, he was still working as a security guard whether first or second shift in a parking lot as his shifts were dependent on his manager changing per three months only. Hence, he was on a second shift today starting his work tonight and finishing it in the wee hours of the morning.
At that moment, the widowed former cop was driving his black cab circa Vermont's countryside slums, humming a melodious tune to himself as his lips motioned. He swayed his lips when he halted immediately at the red light the traffic light just kept his wits about controlling his vehicle. Vermont's slum streets were as unwelcoming as if he was in a third-world country's neighborhood, not giving him vibrant and radiant vibes at all. They were flimsier than the shoddiest glass.
In the past five months since the former pious members of the clergy's absence, Frank's head was engulfed in his old friend and her love interest, especially his former boss. Little did he know what was their recent residence and whether were they eventually still alive. The only thing Frank knew was that his former boss was pregnant and she was no longer behind Briarcliff's dull, uninviting walls.
Notwithstanding the circumstance that the single father was praying his heart out for Timothy and Judy daily, regardless of his piousness and how he sufficiently believed in God. Every morning after waking up, every afternoon and every night before bedtime were the daily episodes, when he recited in a murmur the prayers for his disappeared once favorite woman of the cloth and her boss.
All of a sudden, after driving for a couple of minutes, he found a flower store by parking his car in the only free parking lot alongside the sidewalk. He has visited the same flower store where Judy and Madeleine have worked together especially a few times, in order to buy flowers for his daughters' birthdays which have already passed. The times, when the middle-aged man has paid a visit to the flower store, he hasn't seen Judy except her protégé, Madeleine.
Last but not least, he behaved like a mere customer, who was buying Stephanie and Sienna's favorite flowers in an extraordinarily enveloped bouquet when they paid a visit to him to see him since they were seeing one another once a month, due to their strenuous studies. Strenuous studies, are a major part of their daily schedule and scarcely have any time to do something that they really like during their leisure time.
Once Frank fled his vehicle by locking it, he entered the flower store by was embraced by the eloquent radio music, the kindhearted Madeleine and the extraordinarily harmonious ambience, scooping him in an invisible firm, affectionate hug.
"Honey, you do me wrong but still I'm crazy about you! Stay away too long and I can't do without you! Every chance you get you seem to hurt me more and more! But each hurt makes my love stronger than before I know flowers go through rain! But how can love go through pain?!" An elating song was playing on the radio, floating in the background like an angelic, cheekily anthem.
"Good day, sir!" The Michiganian greeted with a warm welcome the older man, who stepped inside the store as their stares met temporarily.
"Good day, ma'am!" The former policeman exclaimed affably as he shifted his azure blue pools to the galore of choice flowers and plants, fogging mistily his vision.
"Do you need some help?" Madeleine inquired caringly as she offered the older man a sympathetic, faint smile, flexing her lips.
"Nah, thank ya! I'll be good."
"O-Okay!" The juvenile blonde replied dryly, sufficiently amiable without showing any tiny signs of vexation, nor hostility when it comes up to her customers.
As the seconds progressed the security guard's mind was pondering somewhere in his reverie once he laid his sapphire blue eyes on a Polaroid photograph, earning his attention promptly. In the corner of his eye, he could behold two women posing for a photograph with their beaming smiles, sheening upon their faces. A younger and an older lady like the contrasts between light and dark, life and death, day and night were standing alongside each other.
What Frank could tell was that the Polaroid photo was sonly snapped. Perhaps these weeks or the first days since the flower store has legally opened. A deplorable, timid smile meekly brushed across his lips in the scrutiny, glistening the most azure nuance of his irises. The silence that arched between the both adults except for the playing music in the background was actually baffling the young woman, incapable of overthinking how she might help the recent client except by questioning him.
"Ain't that peculiar? A peculiar-arity, ain't that peculiar, baby? Peculiar as can be! Oh, you tell me lies that should be obvious to me! But I'm so much in love with you, baby, 'till I don't want to see!"
"Sistah Jude?" The middle-aged man emitted a muffled stutter, mopping his tongue as it was only audible for him, in order to not be heard by the saleswoman. His heart raced once his oceanic blue irises met his once favorite holy woman, who looked indisputably gorgeous out of her ecclesiastical, tiresome attires of the church. "Ya aren't a sistah anymore, are ya?" A diversity of questions swarmed his mind like a thousand butterflies, fluttering inside his belly as if he was head over heels in love with Jude, despite realizing the fact it might be the former ambitious Monsignor, who has actually rescued her from the madness.
"Is anything wrong, sir? Do you struggle to find the exact flowers which are ya looking for?" All of a sudden, the young lady caught him off guard with her abrupt question, curling her lips demurely, cold-bloodedly.
"N-No, no, no, ma'am! I was just looking at something else." He excused himself.
"Oh! Were you actually looking at the photo on the desk?"
"Yeah, I did!" Meanwhile, Frank bobbed his head meekly in agreement, zipping his lips in a sheepish purse, looking up at the friendly young lady as her glowing hazelish-brown orbs were transfixed on the photograph, handing it to him since it aroused his ginormous interest to survey it though he was bizarrely recognizable. "Is that Sister Jude?"
"It's Judy Martin only. She used to be a nun, yeah!" A pensive, altruistic smile genially constricted her lips into the simper, embellishing her parchment, youthful complexion. Meantime, Frank's callous fingers gently touched the picture as his forefinger tipped gingerly her beautiful face, memorizing ideally her facial features and every detail, every inch of hers even if they were just friends and co-workers. "She told me a lot of things about ya as ya were such spectacular friends, in her humble opinion."
"That things you do and say are designed to make me blue! It's a doggone shame my love for you makes all your lies seem true! But if the truth makes love last longer! Why do lies make my love stronger? (stronger, stronger, stronger) Ain't that peculiar? Peculiar as can be!"
"We're until she just disappeared in the limbo with her favorite priest." The older man cautioned in a honeyed voice, without averting his sapphire blue eyes from the photo, admiring the timeless, unspeakably unrecognizable beauty that oozed from his former boss, Sister Jude. Her lion mane of glossy old Hollywood aureate tresses was piled up on her shoulders, framing perfectly her angelic, dazzling with its facial features complexion.
The casual, decent garments looked so good on her such as the flannel red polka dot and black pencil skirt authentically hugged her body which had altered after passing the post-pregnancy stage.
"By judging the photo, I can seriously tell she's still alive."
"She's alive for sure and the favorite priest you just mentioned is Timothy."
"Ah! I remember that dude." The single father evoked out, gasping in surprising glee, enveloping his frail heart as he raised an arch of his eyebrow, squinting his ocean blue eyes to Madeleine, hardly suppressing the hoarse chuckle, tickling the corners of his mouth. "Wasn't he the one, who impregnated her?"
"It's him and fortunately, they have a son."
"Good for them! Are they married?"
"Oh no!" The Michiganian wished Jude and Timothy were just more than boyfriend and girlfriend, in her humble opinion, nonetheless, the crude circumstances were different otherwise. "But I wish they were."
"Why? They would be a wonderful family with that kid."
"It's their own problem why especially Judy's as they're still working on their toxic relationship, but it's not my business to put my nose in their own business."
"At least, can ya tell me what's yar name since yar good buddies with Judy by judging the photo?"
"I'm Madeleine Willson. I'm from Michigan as my buddies call me on shorter Maddie."
"Oh, it's an enormous pleasure to meet ya, Maddie! I'm Frank as I'm from Boston just like Judy." He extended his hand for an affable handshake as a first step farther to find his old friend and her former lover's current residence, in order to reunite again. "Maddie, please, could ya do a favor for me without telling anything to Jude or Tim?"
"Ain't that peculiar? A peculiar-arity, hey, hey! Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, hey, hey (hey, hey)! Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, hey, hey (hey, hey)! Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah! I cried so much just like a child that's lost its home!"
"O-Of course, Frank! What would ya like?"
"To tell me where they live now as I'll buy a bouquet of flowers for Jude as a part of our reunion."
--- *** ---
--- A Half an Hour Later or So ---
Half an hour after Frank had a conversation with the flower store saleswoman by purchasing a bouquet of two white roses, two rosy tulips, two teal marigolds and two crimson heathers, enveloped in ravishing red envelopes since he knew it was his former boss's favorite color.
As soon as he drove to the recent residence of the unwed couple, he strongly hoped he would be warmly welcomed whether by Jude or Timothy, himself. Once he parked the vehicle in the grandiose yard, he left the car by locking it up, whereas the bouquet of a variety of flowers was behind his spine, concealing it, in order to not ruin his surprise for his old friend.
He marched up to the front door by stepping on the porch, then on the threshold by wedging his lips in a reluctant, bashful purse.
His chest tightened his seized brittle heart as its vigorously frequent heartbeats pulsated into his ears like headphones. His solely free hand managed up to the hardwood front door, tapping on it a few times, keeping its owners' wits about their uninvited guest's presence.
In the meanwhile, light, oddly recognizable footsteps were audible as his lips popped up, ducking humbly his head until the footsteps were beside the door in a single click the door was already unlocked, throughout being opened as the middle-aged lady was met with her old friend, a former employee who tilted his head immediately.
"Oh, Frank! It has been a long time since we've seen each other." Meantime, the former sister of the church threw her arms around him, pressing her chest against his as they absorbed mutual warmness, shutting her eyelids temporarily, and melting into the hug.
"Oh, Judy! I'm so relieved yar still alive and ya made it up to here." Deplorably mirthful smiles swayed across their lips as hammocks as if the light summer breeze blew them and played with them. At the moment, his toned, protective arms were hooked around her upper back as her face was buried in the crook of his neck, trying her best to not inhale the alluring cologne which was frizzled on his neck, grizzly hair and wrists. "I was deadly worried about ya and yar boyfriend. I was praying daily for yar hearts out as if my sixth sense told me ya may not be there anymore."
"Aww, that's so sweet to hear it!" Shortly after they broke off the embrace, they took their time to admire one another's fascinating facial features, highlighted in genuine bliss. The stray golden, wild curls framed ideally her porcelain, yet young-looking complexion as the rest of her halo ringlet of sleek gilt tresses were coiffed in a low messy bun.
Her caramel brown jewels shimmered like constantly twinkling stars in the darkest nocturnal sky of the year as her beaming, reassuringly optimistic smile was a paradise for Frank as if they were on cloud nine.
"I prayed my heart out for ya, Frank, ya know! I didn't expect ya so far." In the interval, she guided him to the living room since it was the most appropriate room to welcome guests even if they were unpredictable at all.
"I'm definitely living and breathing, Jude! Especially for yar relief and I've something for ya."
"W-Wha," As the blonde verged to finish her utterance after shutting the front door by locking it with a single click, hence, the middle-aged man handed the exquisite, beautiful bouquet with flowers Jude until dew of crystal, unexplainable blessed moistness pooled her eyelids as crystal, rejoicing tears verged to well into her eyes like a fountain. When they ambled up to the living room, holding the bouquet of flowers she cordially embraced it as her present. As a part of her reunion with her former employee. A tearful, radiant smile flashed like a jolting bolt upon her face.
"Aww, Frank! Ya don't have any idea how bloody happy ya made me instantly. Yar presence. My relief for yar ongoing life. And now this precious bouquet." Meanwhile, she stood past the coffee table, nuzzling her nose tip against the nosegay's petals, inhaling inwardly, delicately their wonderful scent. "Mmmm! Their scent is astonishingly glamorous! I truly appreciate it, Frank!"
"Every lovely lady like ya deserves such a bouquet! Don't be too modest, dear!" At that moment, the former cop tucked a few stray honey curls behind her ear, fondling genially her scalp as his fingers raked gingerly, feathery her head, admiring the crispy softness of her coiffed low bun. His sapphire blue orbs were fixed on her hazelish-brown ones, locking up into an endless trap. "I'm sure they're going to be a great addition to the interior and yar shining smile on yar beautiful face."
"Thank ya very much!" Her modesty was so sweet for the widower as if he just savored the forbidden fruit from Eden's garden and her beauty was the serpent. She had still platonic feelings for Frank even when his sincerity and courtesy were the keys to her heart, she didn't want to rush up with the stuff between her and her friendship with the former policeman. "I'm going to place them in a vase."
"Of course!" He winked at her once he seated on the leather sofa, reclining comfortably.
"Feel like home, Frank!"
"Thanks! Where's the Daddy of yar sunshine?" The guest winked at her gamely, smug grin kissing his pale-pinkish lips.
"Ah! He's upstairs with Edward and taking a nap." In the interval, the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer sighed a sigh of relief, surging its oxygen from the top of her lungs. "Hold on a second, Frank! How did ya find out that I'm living here with Timothy?"
"It's secret." A husky, mischievous chuckle produced his lips as Judy joined him haphazardly after placing the nosegay in the marble vase. "Ya aren't supposed to know everything at all."
"I bet yar ain't a stalker, Frank, which I strongly believe." When the middle-aged mother fixed the hem of the old, large-sized shirt of her former lover, she turned to Frank for the last time, seconds before walking away from the living room, in case to treat the former police officer whether with some food or drink. "Would ya care for a drink or something to eat?"
"Just a nice glass of water only! I don't want anything else, Judy! I promise ya."
"Alright! I'll be right back in a minute." At that moment, the Bostonian fled the living room by heading to her imminent destination. The kitchen.
In a quarter a minute later masculine, light footsteps emanated from the second floor as they cascaded the stairs to the first floor. It was the former aspiring, strong-willed holy man, who cradled into his secure, muscular arms his baby son as he had already taken an afternoon nap.
"How did you sleep, my love?" Meanwhile, the British compatriot pinched playfully his son's nose as he cooed a cheerful giggle.
"Dada!"
"Aww, that means you slept well." The younger man jeered as he joined Edward in the giggle's symphony, heading towards the kitchen. "Come on, little lovely angel! Let's check your Mommy."
"Oh hey! Somebody had a calming nap." The older lady evoked out as if the punchline had already been emphasized discreetly, holding a glass of filled fresh, lukewarm water for the security guard.
"Yes, we did with Edward! Aren't you thirsty?" In the meanwhile, he escorted his love interest up to the living room as soon as she was walking away from the kitchen, chewing on her lip.
"Nah! We have a special guest there." Once the couple walked inside the living room, the older man squinted up his azure blue orbs, fueled with bewilderment and agitation interweaving at the former devotional man of the cloth. "It's Frank, my old friend."
"Mama! Dada!" Edward's taunting babble was oblivious to both parents as both men gawked at one another with widened eyes.
"T-Timothy?"
"Frank?"
Author's End Note: What are your thoughts on Frank's reborn? What do you think the scene between Timothy and Frank will play in the next chapter? Will be they hostile towards one another or otherwise friendly? Is there a possibility the former man of the cloth to be jealous how Judy is reuniting and befriending with Frank, besides the lovely gesture for giving her a boquet of flowers?