Previously on Wings of Light:
--- *** ---
"Dad, she doesn't want to give me my Thomas! I want my Thomas and her death."
Who tossed that stuffed animal and almost didn't kick the bucket of the Christmas tree, ladies?"
--- *** ---
"I was wondering how many glasses of champagne would be worth for a good dance."
"Frank, don't you ever dare thinking of dancing your tipsy ass in front of the kids! Jude and Tim won't be fine with seeing their old friend being such a turdsandwich. Even their little cherub angelic prince is disagreeing with seeing you tipsy."
--- *** ---
"In spite of we haven't kept in touch with the infamous Vermont's serial killer that appears to be my father and her uncle, I perfectly recall something I've seen with my own eyes when I was a still baby."
"Have you ever witnessed or seen that devilish silhouette of your uncle, my child?"
--- *** ---
Despite the resiliently suffocating doldrum, awkwardly kipping in the conveniently warm swaddled bedroom where the only very presence was occupied by the British compatriot as its conveniently gracious duvet blanketed partly his figure, he was profoundly worried over the former pious woman of the cloth's absence that endured for slightly longer than the common. An uncommon delay in the bathroom which could be interpreted in diversity of versions and exemplars for every one, reckoning Timothy, himself. It could be a genuine sign of anything mystically surprising. Or at least wee hints of anything.
Even though nothing wrong could happen in the bathroom, due to the fact, the en-suite bathroom didn't have its own window and leading to the dynamically horrifying sequence of a daredevil offender break into the two-story property of the former members of the church and Timothy was fortunately in the bedroom, everything is possible. Despite the former pious clergyman's major knowledge in the female anatomy and its processes' bonus information, he could interpret Jude's postpone in a few variants from his individual logic. First and foremost, it could be a forthcoming menopause transition or rather perimenopause, due to her relentless age. As common, the ladies circa his wife's age were unavoidably going through the menopause transition's process that was inevitable and its dynamic roller coaster of symptoms that wickedly occurred. The second thought that crossed deftly the British aristocrat was the possible chances of a second pregnancy, phenomenally predominating into his wife by judging its symptoms that are unspeakably commonly encountered into her such as mood swings, food craves which were inevitably eye-catching for him during their wedding ceremony illustrated the genuine notion of her excessive covet to savor anything associated with food and the indisputably hopeless morning sickenesses, clashing with them every early morning before getting ready for work.
Another pregnancy's delightfully sweet, inebriating savor laced straightforwardly the British aristocrat's tongue after mindly, consciously picturing the possible scenarios of the blonde occupying with her very presence the en-suite bathroom for more than a handful of minutes.
Despite the filthily tremendous fortune the small family possessed actually, no matter if one or three more new additions to the family are acquired emphatically, it would be a worth challenge for Timothy and Jude to take care of one more soul, invitingly, kindheartedly welcomed in the nuke family as well. Time, attention and affection would be the very top in their altruistic sacrifice to rear their new additions. The money wouldn't compensate how challengingly difficult it could be for the former devotional members of the clergy to take care of more than one child. It wasn't even a child's play for them to rear Edward Ralph up to the sixth month of his life at all.
Even though the Bostonian could find herself in a sheer euphoria and dumbfoundness, clouding her overwhelmed hurricane of thoughts with the recent results of the pregnancy test and leaking its absolute reality, her round knees couldn't stabilize her straightened posture except sedating and draining unceasingly the physical stamina, constructing her anatomy with pelting down her twin knees to contact the tiled floor. The haphazardness of its thud pitched the background's resilient, dull doldrum.
"P-Pregnant?" Reciting in murmur, awkwardly rolled into a stammer with mellow timbre sailing out of her mouth after hooking her flimsily creamy, marbled fingers around the pregnancy test, stifling series of gasps and further noises to be elaborated shortly after clamping her front still firm, ivory teeth to gnaw on the raw spot of her lower plumpish lip thoughtfully, flabbergastedly. Twin chubby, bountifully soar tears sloppily swayed onto her lower eyelids and trickling downward her creamy, well-scuptured cheeks at the second amusing pregnancy that spookily altered her night on thirty and sixty degrees. "It's impossible!" Her solely free elvish, alabaster hand's fingertips managed to prop her dropped in duck head's glossy forehead, fixating her glassily flabbergasted hazelish-brown big, roundish jewels on the pregnancy test's recent results with their bewitching aftermaths. Even though the former pious sister of the church came to the conclusion that her luck is far cry from low spirited for her age and she's too lucky to be become a mother for second time within seven months at least, nevertheless, it didn't cease her disappointment from the greedily lucrative, manipulative doctor granting her a broken promise for her fertility back in her younger years.
The entire clash of explicitly heartbreaking sugarcoatedly ugly lies that was once the actual ugly truth, itself, brightly stark contrasting to the naked truth of the absolute reality echoed throughout into the Bostonian's hurricane of thoughts and stilling to listen to the echo of the lucratively greedy doctor that lied to her she's infected with syphilis from her first ever love. It was grotesquely morbid and heartbreaking with its unmasked lie in the thickly unpredictable mask of the truth, falling out of its sugarcoated personage abruptly and diminishing its glossiness and shimmering brightly, bleakly the naked reality of the solved dilemma with the fertility. Sooner or later, every lie was strong-willedly exposed, regardless the owner's slyness and mastery in tricksterness.
What it hurted more than anything Jude for blindly, diabolically believing a pure remnant of lie for a few decades before and after dwelling out of the past life she's been through its ordeals, the pregnancy and motherhood were the welcoming presents, embracing her with open arms celestially to grace her current life as a loving mother, spectacular wife and a brilliantly responsible and diligent flowerstore saleswoman and a well-organized leader.
All of a sudden, the British aristocrat registered his colossal, veiny hand to unwrap the duvet from his figure, in order to seat on the edge of the king-sized bed for a split second and thus hopping up in the convenient, plain pair of slippers by aiming up to the en-suite bathroom to check on his wife, flushing his nostrils with a heavy, jadedly concerned sigh.
As soon as he straightened his posture and marched up to the en-suite bathroom's wooden door, subsequently he ushered his hand to fashion into a balled fist to rap on the door a couple of times, keeping the older lady's wits about his recent condition and very presence.
"Rare bird, is everything okay?" The elaborating process of the vowels and syllables to reproduce a rational enquiry, oozing of its genuine concerns tingled alarming tones into the blonde's ears like an absent, forgotten ballad of its light, aggressively howling summer breeze in a summer night, in spite of her sheer oblivion and her excessive focus on the current results of the pregnancy test. "Rare bird," Anticipating fashionably presentable for a rational response or at least a farther reaction from the Bostonian, it was a perfectly normal, spontaneously embarrassing moment for the British compatriot. An eerie flat line blurred each pattern, texturing with any wee hints of mirth or despondence, twisted across his face. The mellow timbre, chanting the friendly, romantically amorous nickname of the older woman didn't even attract a small glimpse of her attention, unfortunately. It wasn't under any form of a smile, nor a frown. Just fairly embodying the whole weight of worries clinging to his facial attributes.
"We'll have a baby in the next seven months at least." Hysterically rising the decibels of her Boston lilt, amalgamating with her happiness, resembling as if she's on cloud nine, ideally illustrating each lady's reaction when they fathom the efficient changes, turning their lives on 360 degrees with the future family additions they're about to be welcomed dearly. Initially, the former aspiring Monsignor's incredulity roughly contoured his handsome facial attributes with boldly lowering his mammoth, weathered hand to encounter the doorknob and thereafter turn it until the sight of his lover with the pregnancy test on the tiled floor and her sheer, childish excitement depicting the genuinely contagious felicity, traded between the married partners. "Timothy, look! Immediately!" Even though the hysterically euphoric undertone, resiliently touching her command, the authority didn't cease to apt to Timothy to shift his direct attention to the final tests' results with dumping the askew broadly opened the door of the bathroom and consequently hunkering past his wife's petite-frame, whose knees are lingering their prominent brush on the tiled flooring.
"W-We're expecting a second baby?" The timidness in his velvety voice genuinely punctured the sharp accent of his breathtakingly ecstatic humor, painting his facial attributes and daubing each pattern of appalling, strict incredulity. "That's miraculously unbelievable. We've to celebrate it." At the moment, the younger man managed to throw his potently muscular, secure arms to brace his wife's slim waist after glimpsing fleetly at the pregnancy test's results at last. Their hearts vehemently leaped in their ribcage and scarcely relying on halting the triggering circling motion and hammers, whereas broadly straight-forward, coy grins decorated their faces, freshly and broadly misted with the dim light illumination of the site.
"Yar having no idea what on the world means to me to have another child," Accepting gladly the tight, kindheartedly doting embrace, Judy ushered her satin, lean arms to secure her husband's upper back, burying her teary, doe complexion in the crook of his arm, in order to evade the bright veil of light to expose her stickily salty, drenched in her own tears facial skin, pale enough to enlighten each discreet detail behind her realistic, majestic illustration of the happy mother and wife. "With nobody else than my lovely, " Clearing featherly soft her raspy, rusty throat with a tearful cough, sobbing, she clutch shut her doe eyelids to allow the heavy rain of steamy, translucent tears to gush down freely, perkily her well-carved cheeks. "One of a kind," Tighetning the embrace with her entire strength was a lucrative trade of buoyant gasps, slipping from their mouths deftly. "Husband! Yar still making me the happiest woman ever lived in this world, ya know!"
"You're rather the one who makes me the happiest man ever living in this world!" Joining the duet of their tearfully mirthful heartwarming words, chanted mutually, consequently the decibels diminished into threadbare whispers, tingling angelic anthems into their vulnerable ears. The hug didn't fail to be interrupted at all. "Thank you for everything and for gracing not only ourselves with one more addition to that splendid family, but also our lovely cherub angel to have a beautiful little sister or an adorable little brother of his!"
Their very first thoughts and predictions on their forthcoming addition to their nuclear family was either another boy with curly golden hair, curtaining his palish profile and big, rotund chocolate brown jewels or on the contrary one of a kind girl with mop of aureate curls, flawlessly mantling her porcelain, round profile, paired with huge, expressively inquisitive cocoa brown gemstones. No matter their sexes, their future additions to the family would be benevolenty, sacredly gifted with the most adorable smiles, ornating their facial features.
Furthermore, the forthcoming unborn child's new home in the monumentally endless world was due in November and the former devotional members of the church had enough time to think wisely even jot down on a list their ideas for the ideal name for their future ray of sunshine, besides researching books for names that looks the best for them at least.
"I was pretty scared I may be through the perimenopause right away instead of getting pregnant." Shortly after the couple broke off the embrace, throughout they took their time to admire their one another's unblemishedly beautiful facial attributes, lingering their grins with their rich decoration. What it frankly scared the former sister of the church at first was not having her period twice in the past two months, due to the inescapable pregnancy. Her very first speculations were either a hallowed pregnancy or otherwise a relentless, murderous perimonepause along with experiencing the initial symptoms. It didn't matter to her anymore if she isn't going to have her own regular periods or having the common morning sicknesses, as much as the second unborn ray of sunshine was living inside her bestowed her and her husband with a pure, indisputable happiness, nothing else mattered to them anymore as their sharp accent spotlighted the second child's prominent appearance within a several months. Even though the same old challenges awaited them to present the performance of their patience through the advancing time, they were pretty aware of how to keep safe and sound the unborn baby just like they did with Edward when his appearance was far cry from the crudely cold, big world nonetheless. "I was being through the first stages of that perimenopause."
"Shh, shh, shh, everything is fine! Everything will be fine as always we've persevered to be, Jude!" The former ambitious Monsignor's persistent attempts to attract Judy's attention didn't die at all and jumpcut to her feline, unspeakably blissful ogle, darted to the owner's serene consolation, lulled honeyed, mellowly to her with its resemblance of a parent, trying his best to wisely, lovingly soothe his child after his toy was broken by an accident. "We've to just stay strong as we've always did, no matter when our lovely little cherub angel wasn't there then or," A sudden pause prominently hammered his naturally baby-pinkish, chapped lips, whereas his pristinely protective, meaty fingers kneaded on circles her loins on reflex, reflecting the true, extraordinary spell of the younger gentleman's attempts to console his rare bird. In the interim, the double gigantic, bleakly dark silhouettes of the duo manipulating their own mirrored physiques on the tiled wall, sheepishly danced and incarnated their hidden unnatural possessions. "Or when we had to deal with the car crash and everything where the patience was a little bit more worth than anything in this world."
"The patience," Series of insecurely limping stutters sailed out of the blonde's tongue tip, molting candidly, dotingly into her husband's amorous, calm words, welling in a celestially nonchalant fountain of bizarre, arcanely comforting sweet nothings. "Was always worth during our journey to redemption, regardless how big stone cold bitch I used to be to you and the others who really gave a damn about my very being." Shaking faintly her head, in order to sort adequately her mind, the former licentious jazz nightclub singer manipulated to twirl her wet, strawberry-coloured tongue to lick with great deal of sheer greed her lower and upper chapped, plumpish lips, lingering her amorously piercing ogle at her lover's pools of profoundly promising, tender coffee brown. The soar metallic, rusty flavor of the unthinkable nickname she directly, categorically labeled herself cloudily hazed the British aristocrat's earbuds due to the unimaginably painful timbres of its utterance, composed in its true, default vowels and syllables.
"You weren't a big stone cold bitch. You were just being through a lot and if I were you, honestly," Cradling gingerly, delicately her smaller head into his masculinely large, protective hands, whereas their hearts terminated abruptly and then bewilderingly leaped in the heartwarming, starkly truthful words, constructiong the revelation of the former holy priest. "I would do the same thing just like you, because our journey was one of the hardest to achieve that atonement which was tremendously," Tracing daintly, mellowly with flabbergastingly warm, reassuring fingertips a femininely delicate jaw line after dumping the cradle of her head kindheartedly. In the meantime, the former licentious nightclub singer's ears molted truly, gently into the angelic anthems' ode, rooming through her ears after being eloquently reproduced by its own outstanding owner. "Tremendously worth it, despite the hardships trying their best to separate us in the most possible insidious way without having any modicum of mercy for the wretched souls."
"The hardships will be never capable of separated strong bonds like ours. We're inseperable without any doubt."
"Exactly! That's what it makes us strong, persevering anything that bumps into our way." All of a sudden, the former aspiring Monsignor managed to press a featherly soft, welcoming peck on the older lady's button, graceful nose as his naturally nude pink, plump lips bedaubed smoothly its facial attribute's tissue. "I have never seen stronger woman than you, Jude!"
"Y-You want to tell right into my face no other lady could be stronger?"
"Exactly! You're the strongest. I genuinely admire this trait of yours and I wish Edward and our unborn ray of sunshine," The haphazardness of the former ambitious Monsignor's maneuvered colossal, consolingly warm hand to paw friendly, vibrantly the small bump of the former pious nun, whereas his masculinely meaty, potent fingers carefully cradled and fingered the fleshy tissue, admiring its size of the unborn cherub angel's current temporal sanctum of his development and life. "Take that strength and stamina of yours for granted."
"Edward has always been an undeniably hardwearing little gentleman, although the car crash and the stressful desperations, whirling in our nuclear family."
"That truly means he's part of us and he will give a splendid example to the future generations after us who will be the one that is in charge of."
"When it comes up to personality traits that are exchangeable in the family via its roots."
"Definitely!" Ushering their heads in tandeming nods, reaffirming the positions of their façades, an emphatically bashful, trembling chuckle hammered Judy's wet, berry-coloured tongue. "It's inescapable process of its contagious characters that are swapping mutually its personality traits and the younger ones who will build their own generations like Edward and our future family addition."
--- *** ---
--- The Next Morning ---
--- 27th of March, 1966 ---
When the impending morning slowly bled into the daily daylight episode's celestially inviting, majestic sanctum of early spring's sunny blanket, swaddling friendly the strangers and the outstanding nature, the former members of the church decided to pay a visit to the nigh hospital with scarcely arranging their visit to the doctor about consulation about the recently encountered symptoms of the pregnancy's first trimester.
Shortly before the married couple left their privately owned two-story mansion to pay a visit to the doctor without an exceeding arranged appointment, they brushed their teeth, having an entertaining breakfast with their son and feeding not only him, but also the three-month-old kitten Stephen even spending modicum of their time to bestow them with myriad of unconditional love and warmness. In addition to their morning schedule, they got ready for leaving the privately owned property for awhile.
"What may I help with, Mister and Mrs. Howard?" A senior doctor in the beginning of his fifties with unceasingly balding scalp and ridiculously short mop of raven black curly strands apt to ornate his head, coupled gracefully with his baldy, naturally thick eyebrows, big nose and medium-sized, roundish pools of profoundly glassy apple green. His body structure was rotund and his height could be measured approximately 5'10 for his age, exquisitely matching with his graciously tanned skin tone. Last but not least, Dr. Armin Clarkson's Canadian lilt didn't cease to diminish the decibels into a murmur, whilst reproducing the velvety, professionally formal enquiry to his current visitors in his austerely furnished office. The lavish fragrance of cinnamon, coffee and lilacs, amalgamating with the medicaments' rich scent meagerly ceased to not permeate past Jude, Timothy and Edward Ralph's tiny, flexible nostrils.
"Well, the last night I took a pregnancy test, acquiring the final results of it just in a few minutes as it shows its certain positivity." A heavy sigh flushed her nostrils shortly before gently, tenderly rocking the six-month-old baby boy, whereas maintaining an appropriately sincere eye contact with the senior doctor, whose lukewarm round apple green bijous were fixated on the trio, howsoever, mostly shifting his attention to the blonde and assimilating each word, elaborated by her nimble tongue. In the meanwhile, the baby boy's huge, roundish honey brown bijous drank affectionately the prospect of its formal chat between his mother and the foreign doctor for his vision. His gaze begged for his creator's immediate attention or at least modicum of altruism satiating his needs. "I was just quite anxious by judging I've missed two periods for this and the last month so far." A strong-willedly stubborn clash of vowels and syllables waltzed slowly but surely into the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer's throat and subsequently silver-tonguedly, headstrongly crafting them under the form of a confession, truthfully explaining her recent condition and the foreshadowed sequence of missing her both periods for this and the last month.
"Mrs. Howard, did you face the typical symptoms which every lady does when she's missing her period such as," At the moment, the British compatriot manifested to snake his potently toned, silkenly protective arm around Jude's middle, in order to grant her myriad of unconditional love, murderous warmness and tremendous comfort, whereas his solely free colossal, veiny hand managed to linger his bony fingers with its series of soothing, tender strokes, grazing their son's short mop of glossy chestnut strands.
"Yes, actually!" Clearing politely her throat with a soft cough, fortunately, muffled with one of her petite, elegantly gloved hands for a temporal dramatic pause, while maneuvering her tongue to twirl outside her oral caverns, in order to lick greedily, sheepishly her chapped, roseate lips. "Morning sicknesses. Food cravings. Mood swings." The adaption of listing a handful of the crucial symptoms, commonly encountered in every pregnant lady didn't cease to unamuse Armin, weakly, pathetically raising an arch of his bald, lukewarm eyebrow with fleetly dexterous motion, indicating its pace. Poetic pinkness bountifully, playfully tickled the wed pairing' well-carved, chubby cheeks. The ominous adaption to playing and fingering absent-mindedly, sweetly Edward Ralph's daintily chubby fingers attempted to keep his wits about his importance even when the former pious sister of the church's devotion to her hectic schedule and activities, balefully refilling her leisure. A primly vague, beaming smile curved upon her naturally rosy-coloured, cherub lips, stilling its manipulation of the wee slit, prominently decorating her porcelain, unblemishedly elderly youthful profile. "Furthermore, if ya question for how long I've been like this, it's circa a month."
"By judging how old your son is right now and the last time when you've been in a labour," Meantime, elderly meaty, arduously dexterous fingers of the older gentleman hooked around his glass of freshly cool, relaxing liquid and gulping a polite tiny sip of it to hydrate his organs and oral caverns for a momental pause, eerily awkward ghosting the eloquently elating daylight birdsongs outside. The magnificence of its vibrantly radiant sunlight, filtering with its promisingly saturating light the sufficiently expansive room in divinely aureate curtain, pale enough beautifully to curtain the exposed fleshes and facial attributes of the group of occupants of the doctor's site. "You're risking with your recent pregnancy to give a birth to premature child in less than eight months." The suddenness of the curved into a pensive, cautious purse of the British compatriot's nude pink lips, taunted to fasten the grapple of his wife's waist and intensifying its tightness.
"A premature child?" Suddenly twin fat, crystally translucent tears gingerly lurched onto her lower eyelids, tarrying pearly her bony, spidery fingers to idly play with her little ray of sunshine's tiny, pudgy hand in reflex to diminish the nerve of her invincibly gruesome self-consciousness.
"Yes, Mrs. Howard!"
"I can't take the sudden risk of getting rid off it just because it's going to be premature due in November."
"Mrs. Howard, are you pretty aware of the risks that await your future child just a half a year after becoming a mother for first time?" The recurring jet of twin chubby, luster cataracts unholily terrified trickled downward and her facial attributes' incredulity maliciously veiled them, whilst abstaining from making scenes in the doctor's office with a handful of painfully doe sniffles, breaking her facial expression abruptly. The unthinkable hazard taking in her own bare hands to keep her unborn baby inside her womb until its ultimate development brought her dose of unforgivingly bittersweet tears, speaking emotions about her boldness. Even though the unborn child was a month and a few weeks old solely, it was still early to determine categorically what's the best to carry on, although the hazards anticipating its somber aftermaths of giving a birth to the new family addition with prematureness. The maternal instincts engulfed the middle-aged lady into a compact bubble, where her crystal worldview and one of a kind individuality kept her yet different from the other peers, sharing the same age, different lives and sequence of their decisions nonetheless.
"I do."
"Not only there are higher chances of your future child to develop more health issues, moreover let's not forget it will be smaller and it will have mainly problems with the breathing, brain, heart and so forth."
"I'm going to keep that baby inside me unless our lives are extremely endangered when it comes up to my health condition." Stiffling series of frustrated, breathy grunts under her breath with nibbling between her front ivory, still firm for her age teeth her lower cracked lip, the Bostonian registered an authoritative oath, forged with austerely unwelcoming, harshly frosty vowels and syllables' undertones, building her oath. "I don't care if I'm going to give a birth to a tiny piece of meat or an average one, anything to deprive my very second addition to this family I've always craved to have will be under no circumstances."
"Mrs. Howard, are you completely sure you want to keep this unborn child, despite its future risks when it emerges in this world?" Although the professional senior doctor whose opulent medical career has been measured in the range of a handful of decades of promisingly diligent, modestly versatile hardwork with variety of patients stepping in his office, the meaningful fear roared into the older man's caution as a last warning, granting Jude's last chance to deliver her emphatic answer between keeping her unborn baby stilling its population inside her tiny bump or on the contrary getting rid off it under the form of abortion and risking her body to go through devilishly barbaric, unseen pain of pristinely steel medical tools bashing the embryo with a sorely explicit penetration through her slit. Even though the abortion was certainly less painful and hazardous in the first trimester up to the second half of the second trimester, the former sister of the church didn't have any intentions of taking into her own hands another hazard that would deprive her from her fertility, besides it's still a tough decision for the Bostonian to embrace with open arms the consequences of having a premature baby in less than a year. Last but not least, Judy didn't find the doctors quite likeable or rather candidly hospitable for her own like. After living with the starkly glacial sugarcoated lie of infertility and barren emptiness in the matter of years after her first copulations with Casey and paying a visit to the doctor whose greediness escalated to faking the carnal diagnose of her syphilis, in order to earn his filth fortune via a vulnerably gullible patient like her, the debilitation of her exposed, vulnerable trust to the medical experts when it comes up fertility and children, exacerbated her nerves to limp until an ablaze adrenaline' spawns seeded and flourished efficiently into her figure.
"Absolutely, Doctor! It's my body, it's my baby and yar efforts to scare me with having a premature baby just when I found out that I'm pregnant past a day even though I carry this fresh life inside me for a whole month," The harshly cold-blooded increastion of the former nun's decibels in her retaliation, dripping from her naturally nude pink, chapped lips hardly startled even glazed with flinch Armin's fleshily flappy muscles, whereas the series of honeyed, mellowly reassuring whispers and sweet nothings emanating from Timothy roomed her first petite, flexible ear and subsequently sloppily skid out of her other ear, trying his best to enforce fiercely his consolation over the former devotional woman of the cloth even though her strongly stubborn nature, howling aggressively inside her. "And when he or she is there, fortunately, it will be a year and two months after having my previous baby." Dark sardonism remarkably howled her snicker which her rosy-coloured, plump lips curved to part in a soft O balefully to expose her angrily ire from the medical experts' hypocrisy, celestially, unimaginably thirsting for tremendous fortune bolt from the blue, whereas Armin's facial attributes momentarily hardened sternly, trustlessly, spellbinded by his current visitor's fierce inflammatory, illuminating starkly her incredulity towards the medical expert's professional advice. In spite of the former religious clergyman's attempts to halt his lover from her fiery ire, roaring relentlessly into her, it was oblivious and deliriously unthinkable to be capable of unmasking the other doctor's visitor true face, unmasking the glossiness with purely hallowed diplomacy, readable all over his freshly young-looking face.
"Jude!" The suddenness of the honed in its sharpness address, emanating from the British compatriot jingled caught off guard-tones, elaborating the depths of her bones and muscles' stability under the bewitchingly unbeatable hex, casted to sedate and weaken promptly heated the pit of her stomach.
"I warned you, ma'am, no matter if you are in labour in eight months or hopefully a few years later, you will be looking forward for my advice."
"Are ya watching yarself whatever comes from you, Doctor?" Meanwhile, the blonde's intentions of fleeing lastly in the utmost moment of the private appointment with the older man, lingering her tight grapple dotingly securing her six-month-old infant, were rabidly rapid inflating. The piercing glare of the pair of pools of abysmally expressive, straightforward honey brown pronged Armin's doubtlessly vibrant tanned façade and ushering haul slowly but surely her rear from the chair, overlooking Timothy's comforting grapple that secured her middle. "Lies on top of lies. That's what ya," Managing her nostrils savagely fiery flare, the inflammatory whisper almost died on her dry fat of her strawberry-coloured tongue. "The doctors do so that to earn money by exposing your bald-faced lies under the form of a threat."
"Rare bird!" In spite of the younger man's sheer sympathy for his wife and comprehending her recent position, it meekly distressed him railing fluently the train vagons of the awful disquietude, unconditional nonplus and murderous nonchalance, coursing through his veins. Even though Jude and Timothy were contrastingly bright opposites in finding the exact solution to aggravate the chances of another issue's core, the wrath of the former holy woman and the sheer nonchalance, oozing of the diplomatic British aristocrat stretched the very elasticity of their meager proximity. At the moment, during the heated debate's escalation to ruckus, swaddling icily the doctor's office, the middle-aged lady shot a fleet glance at her husband for reconsidering her own position against the façade of the senior doctor, in case, to find any support in her decision. "That's enough."
"It will be enough when I'm done. This doctor needs a splendid lesson to be taught for his lucrative greed that saved his skin from the poverty," Lowering momentarily the decibels of the raspiness of her grunt prominently transmuted into a reprimanding mutter, maintaining a nimble eye contact with the British aristocrat and the doe expansion of her indiscernible midnight black pupils glazed with fierce fury, readable all over her facial features. Even though the medical professional's second nature adapted to similar patients'complaints who had stepped once in his office for consulation or any other reason at least, his sheer, sly calmness didn't cease to dumbfound the former members of the church whilst crooking his masculinely meaty, promisingly ingenious fingers around the glass of water, docilely sipping of its transparent liquid. "By accepting patients like me just to take away their money for his indulgence that is against the law."
"Jude, I know what you've been through, however, a heated debate won't save you from them!" The optimism, cusping with stark, grotesque realism presentably crawled its unwelcoming cool snake in the pit of Judy's stomach abruptly as the pairing were getting ready to flee the room within less than a minute under the gawk of the senior doctor, suckling on his upper lip thoughtfully, nervously. "I'm really sorry for that ruckus, Doctor! My wife has being through a lot lately. But thank you so much for giving us your time for your word!" Meantime, when the former members of the church eagerly dumped their former temporal seats and aiming to the hardwood, oak door, a prim, vague smile perched on the older gentleman's lips, reassuringly reaffirming the former holy priest's position and earning for last time twains of eyes, wearing diversity patterns, texturing their expressive indiscernibly dark pupils, donned up in variety nuances of their cloaks. The lighter cloaks compassionately swaddled Timothy and Edward's irises with sheer optimism, mischievous nonchalance, brightly contrasting the Bostonian's pools of deeply emotional, poetic honey brown, spearing with its scintillating glare the doctor's apple green gems. As if the Grim Reaper has actually found its new home into the former sleazy nightclub singer's poetic honey brown gemstones and sharpening the opacity of its inviting, vibrant light, purely illuminating every ounce of her absolutely realistic contemplation. Notwithstanding the heated debate, Timothy wasn't quite fond of the doctors and meaningfully respecting Jude's somber journey through the doctors' offices for council even though he was strongly against the inflammatory language to be frankly spoken in the name of the justice. "Goodbye and have a nice day!" Shortly before the younger gentleman's colossal, soothingly creamy hand manifested to perch on the doorknob, his naturally berry-coloured, plump lips curved a weak, childlikely benevolent smile to assure the both participants in the heated debate whose annulment frostily disappointed the middle-aged mother, shaking recurringly her head in disagreement and having the nerve yet to continue persuading Armin's wrongness. The adrenaline rabidly erupted into the heart pulses of Judy, ruthlessly megawatt thudding into her ribcage.
"Goodbye and have a nice day, Mr. and Mrs. Howard!" Within swinging broadly opened the oak door and permeating its large scale of space, politely providing to the trio to step out of the room and earning lukewarm glances and stares, divinely fixated on them.
"I didn't mean to make scenes, but this doctor reminded me of that one who faked my infertility, Timothy!"
"I'm not a lawyer or something, but it wasn't appropriate from you to raise your voice as if he was a kid." Distancing their figures with a couple of inches from Armin's office as soon as possible, the couple registered to retire in the middle of the dim lit abysmally long hallway of the building, whereas the infamous serial killer's daughter seated on one of the chairs past Armin's office, uneasily bouncing her legs in an uneven, girlish drum. In the meanwhile, her elvish, palish weathered hands landed on her small bump, efficiently bulging up her lower abdomen. Her smoky quartz bijous acutely pronging with a scintillatingly bright, bleak glare the pairing after recognizing her worst foes leaving the doctor's office, flattening her mouth into a merciless, hideously arcane frown, twisted across her youthfully refreshing, gorgeous facial features. "He's a doctor and tried his best to give you his word on the pregnancy and so forth."
"How do ya think I'd dump this unborn baby, because of him?" The recurring series of comforting bounces and swings of the infant, scooped securely into her leanly velvet arms weren't reassuring enough for Edward Ralph to dedicate his aroused interest into his parents' body language and wee discussion about their recent doctor's visit which was a clear disappointment for the former pious sister of the church. His huge, symmetrically roundish caramel brown bijous examined in a scrutiny each discreet detail behind the phenomenal body language and mannerism even timbres of Jude and Timothy, indicated in their wee heated discussion. "I'd rather have a premature baby rather than a dead baby. Furthermore, when we're going to expect our second addition to the family, it's going to be already the first year and second month after having our very first one."
"I can't second on his statement we're going to have a premature baby, because there are plenty other factors that determine how perfectly healthy it's going to be as well."
"Absolutely! Just think about it."
--- *** ---
--- A Week Later or So ---
--- 4th of April, 1966 ---
Within a week after strong-willedly booking their tickets for the small city of Tennesse for their promisingly majestic honeymoon, consequently the married duo got early in the wee hours of the early April's morning with having a small family breakfast, taking sloppy showers and preparing the rest of their necessary luggage for their one-week honeymoon in Adams.
Even though the former devotional members of the clergy's flight were precisely booked for nine o'clock in the morning, anyway they were escorted by Madeleine, Cassandra and Andrea on the Hartford's airport.
The sheer, childlike agitation for the extraordinarily ecstatic, auspicious honeymoon scarcely vanished in the duo, factly, they were strongly looking forward for the bright beginning of the new April's week with the perpetually blossoming balminess of the typical early spring climate and its unceasingly flourishing nature prospect, painted with warm, radiantly abstract brushes. The balmy, beaming phenomenon of its performance of catharsis inescapably was the essential reason for a new beginning. For a fresh start. Not just for the general population, but also mostly for Judy and Timothy and completely overlooking the past without having any intentions to turn back and glimpse at the face of the empty barrens of the past' spikes of tribulations they've been through in the past weeks and months.
Their strong doubts to contemplate through the curtains or the face of the past that brought them nothing else than painful tribulations and sore lessons, brilliantly explaining their solutions in each hardship's interpretation.
The airport for their own luck wasn't quite crowded with galore of strangers in hurry to catch up either their flights for their dream destinations or on the contrary already arriving in Hartford after having either a business trip or their dynamic dream destinations' experience, rooming their conscience and the depth of their soul. Ocean of strangers, cloaking their complexions in medley of masks of happiness, anger, aloofness, sorrow or meekly dim exasperation, instantly readable across their outstanding, one of a kind facial attributes.
The authentically grand wall clock uneasily ticked, calculating momentarily every elapsing second from its current time. It was already quarter to eight. Uncommonly early, the nuclear family's very presences were obligated to populate the airport's building earlier than the usual, in order to check their luggages for any eventual hazardous items and paraphernalia.
In the interval, the horde of adults seated on one of the benches outside the building's interior, in order to pearly relish their final moments before saying farewell to one another for awhile and admirably treasure every discreetly petty detail behind its nature aesthetics, straightforwardly encircling them. While Jude was sitting alongside her husband and Madeleine as the six-month-old infant was scooped in his mother's protective, tenderly silken arms, Andrea and Cassandra traded their own seats on the other sides of their friends.
Notwithstanding the one-week honeymoon, the couple has granted their foster pet Stephen to Madeleine and Roman's care as the older brother of the Michiganian solemnly vowed to take a decent care of it during the former religious members of the church's absence. Last but not least, even though Frank's ginormous wish to behold his old friends shortly before catching up with their flight for Adams, Tennesse, unfortunately, his night shift had already drained the remaining quantity of energy, caged inside his muscles and cells to bestow himself a restless sequel with his daily life. The night shifts were sufficiently enervating for every one even a security guard of a parking lot, being in charge of inside his small sacredly convenient, stable shack. Not only his extra sleeping hours were dubiously satiable and stilling its stabilization of his daily habits, moreover his daily schedule's hectiness reckoned its nightmarish chaos after collecting a couple of hours fleet, promising slumber.
"So Adams, Tennesse is your dream destination for a honeymoon?" Meanwhile, the former prostitute's naturally rosy-coloured, cherub lip curled in the nimbleness of her enquiry, darting her pitch-black big, rotund gems to the married duo with a huge grin radiantly curving her mouth, exposing vibrantly her flawlessly ivory teeth.
"To be honest, yes!" The haphazardness of the other middle-aged blonde's strawberry-coloured, wet tongue deftness inevitably crafted the brief response after its willed clash of vowels and syllables, almost ebbing off in her feminine Adam's apple. In spite of the small population of Adams, the wed duo have emphatically decided to not hesitate even change their honeymoon's location, in fact, it's already organized and it's already too late to bring back the time. One of real motives the small city of Tennesse to be part of their romantic vacation for a straight week was judging its the quantity of people inhabiting and how miniature it appeared to be even resiliently calm and serene site. They were strongly looking forward for its nature atmosphere and everything else illustrating realistically its own esthetics in general even getting to know another undiscovered location for them. Miraculously Judy and Timothy weren't keen fans of the bigger cities or states where the population was utmost larger in its quantity and most of all, they couldn't find peace with themselves for awhile at least. It wasn't true that they didn't like the enormous sites. It was just the ambience, itself, especially where they could confront a huge crowd of people. "The less people in one place, less problems, Andrea!"
"I'm glad you managed to choose your own destination for the honeymoon where there aren't many people." It was high time for Andrea's daughter, Cassandra's passionately dexterous tongue to conjugate her individual utterance as her bottom plumpish lip quivered bewitchingly, lazily without managing to break her adequately maintained eye contact with the horde of inner circle and shooting a welcomingly benevolent glimpse at the young boy, whose big, roundish pools of abysmal honey brown gradually, intoxicatingly imbibed each inner circle member's face with its pure guiltlessness, flaming into his indiscernible, blown widened jet-black pupils.
"Isn't it just romantic to have a honeymoon in one of the most haunted cities of America?" The abruptness, arduously stubborn elaborating the Michiganian's rhetorical posed question was perkily escorted with a naturally healthy, utmostly candid snigger scrapping her throat, whilst manipulating her spidery marbled, bony fingers to tuckle a fistful of uneasily cheerful, rebellious aureate curls warmly behind her petite, vulnerable ear in a swift motion without breaking her eye contact with her friend and co-worker in the same time. "Having a meager population as if it's a ghost town?"
"At least, Adams is sonly established city! It's not just a ghost town, a potential city with its extraordinary nature," Delightfully molting into the delicately soothing, hedonistic touches of Madeleine, motioning its fingering of the slimly long, satin fingers through the vibrantly flossy golden locks, the former pious woman of the cloth manifested a healthily rusty, hoarsely girlish giggle, slipping from her mouth in a jiff. "Outstanding atmosphere and so forth. It doesn't need to be New York so that to bewitch me at all."
"Furthermore, it's undeniably fun to explore undiscovered, eerie places on our own!" The recent revelation, emanating from the former aspiring Monsignor's starkly pale-pinkish lips parted promptly delivered the answer the female trio was eagerly seeking for by judging their buddies' childlike inquisitiveness to discover the real motives why the former members of the clergy enamored dicey adventures in hauntedly godforsaken areas. Were they just parallel to the rebelliously headstrong adolescents and young adults whose aroused interest in the gruesomely godforsaken sparkled their great deal of enthusiasm or on the contrary their freshly childlike, buoyant spirituality corrupted their very souls with the bare, timeless adrenaline of imperiling their own lives just to pay visits to places that were forgotten by God?
Even though the majority of the couples' honeymoon destinations were in incredibly breathtaking sites where the romantic ambience welcomingly, balmily embraced them, the originality in the married couple's creativity to organize more modest romantic vacation for awhile illuminated them with the brightest brush, bearing a semblance of an artistically entertaining masterpiece with its unorthodox style masterizing their romantic journeys. They weren't like the other pairings.
"For example proposing your rare bird nowhere else than on the roof of a former psychiatric hospital?"
"That's fairly true, Maddie!" At the moment, the British aristocrat ushered his wet, berry-coloured tongue to greedily, thoughtfully lick his lips, lingering the potent accent of eyeing the juvenile flowerstore saleswoman's porcelain, unblemishedly glossy complexion with its mirth, adorning remarkably, uniquely her youthful facial attributes. "There's nothing wrong with changing its location of the proposal."
"As usually, the couples are proposing each other either in public or at home." The raspiness, accentuating ominously the former hooker's realistic suggestion for a common place where the proposals were a second nature for each individual's illustration.
"Be specific with what kind of locations do you suggest to take its place in public, mom!"
"I was thinking it could be at work, at the stores and the mall, of course, Cass!" The suddenness of the planted affectionately soft, heartwarming peck on Cassandra's well-carved, chubby cheek, the smoothness of Andrea's nude pink, featherly soft lips grazing the delicate, glossy facial skin beneath its adroit, creamy touch taunted fiercely Cassandra's heart to leap and race a couple of times, while honing her ears for automatically assimilating every version for a proposal, regardless how commonly encountered it was. Little did the young mother of two know the rabid temperature's potency, insanely heating pleasantly, gracefully the pit of her stomach and megawattly electrifying goosebumps spiking her creamy epidermis. "I remember so far when I was pregnant with you, Cass, just like the very first weeks of my first trimester," A heavy sigh measured sufficiently the older woman's intensions of extending her own monologue and refreshing graciously her brittle lungs, whilst her compact scale of audience were all ears in a jiffy. "Your dad proposed me on a very unusual place. It was shortly after paying a visit to the doctor and leaving the doctor's office after we acknowledged that we're about to welcome you as our family addition in less than a year."
"That's adorably crazy!" Diminishing the megawatt decibels of her sweet, blatant whimper, sailing out of the Michiganian's tongue tip clumsily, fortunately, it was solely audible for her and composing its weak, vulnerable ballad of her low hum under her breath. Her elvish, milky hand maneuvred to crook its series of smoothly affectionate strokes of the youngster's chestnut, flossy hair, landing her honey brown cabochons on his charmingly full, plump profile and platonically admiring his ethereal grace and inheriting his creators' authentically vibrant features.
"I think in Judy and Tim's case it was even less common, mom!" An optimistic, unceasing scintillation eerily highlighted the Vermontian's face, attaching her front ivory, still firm teeth to perch on her bottom cherub lip to nip at the delicately raw spot recurringly to stifle a surprised gasp at the top of her lungs.
"I'm not saying the proposal in the hospital's corridor was pretty common and cliché place, but I just spilled the drops of my tea!"
"I really like it!" The symphony of unison voices, collaborating in its beatific composition jingled angelic anthems into Andrea's ears, muting the humdrum medley of silver-tonguedly scrumptious birdsongs, tiresome strangers' chatters and the mild aggression of its howling soft spring breeze.
--- *** ---
--- Dream ---
A motionless body like the other bodies who have found either peace with themselves or collecting its sufficient rest after their chaotic daily journey, regardless the arduous deal of efforts to release themselves with an engagement minus.
As soon as the former pious sister of the church came to her senses after lazily fashioning into balled fists her weathered, marbled hands to grapple the generous layer of stickily greasy, wet sand of its small, forsaken island somewhere situated in the world's ocean, her eyelids momentarily, lazily wrenched broadly opened at the dim light vista, bestowing her with the absolute reality of her desolation on its land. Plenty of wild, artistically monumental palm trees and kinky, untamedly thick bushes contagiously depicted her current location.
When the middle-aged lady's pair of hazelish-brown gems surveyed in a scrutiny in the stark corner of her eye the recent, hair-risingly unfamiliar area for her, the abruptness of electrifying goosebumps spiked her unblemishedly sheer alabaster epidermis.
"W-Where am I?" One of her top inquiries skeptically provoked her lower cherub, roseate lip to quiver haphazardly and sensing its exoctically tropical climate roaring its natural warmness colliding ferociously into her bare petite-frame. Unfortunately, even a mirror wasn't hanging out loosely or at least sloppily occupying with its wee scale the desolated tropical island in the nocturnal episode's thick ebony mantle, bountifully obscuring each source of light and illumination to magnificently be tracked down or share generously its modicum of beaming, saturating light with the darkness. "W-What's this place?" In the meanwhile, a timid glance, landing on her sheerly naked figure with its insatiable slender curves constructed her one of a kind anatomy under her registered eerie flat line, indicating her grotesque emotionlessness readily decorating her complexion.
When her questions haven't fathomed its emphatic rationality and logic yet, the former pious nun didn't give up at all. Her initial hope was to research cautiously the island, in spite of the nudity couldn't be problematic for her as well.
The bashfully girlish whisper of incessant feminine footsteps ghosting aloofly the drenched, luster carpet of sand, tickling playfully, delicately her feet and bony ankles, the suddenness of foreign, inhumanely undescribable noise pitched the disturbing, cold-hearted doldrum that once peacefully settled on the lonely piece of land. It resembled or at least strucking at first with its morbid blood-curdling timbres, composing its elegiac ode of its series of blatant whimpers, escaping the tortured victim of severe pain and agony, Anyway the victim was unknown, nevertheless, his voice was readily masculine and purely husky.
"Who are you?" Once the very presence of the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer wasn't the only one ghosting spectacularly authentic on the foreign piece of tropical land, subsequently she manipulated her leg muscles to dash to one of the wild, chubby bushes where the soundtrack of the agony emanated and played out like a broken record inside a cryptically haunted with infamous backstory room.
Acknowledging the presence of two other uninvited guests on the tropical island, Judy shyly obscured herself from the view of the other woman, skinning the corpse of the former priest with her own femininely weathered, longly slim fingers and ferociously sharp, firm teeth, baptized with rich layer of dark, freshly shed gore. Solely the nocturnal darkness camoflauged her from head to toes, although its vivid nuances of the refreshing, lukewarm blood, glimmering brightly with the most silken hue of red. A medley of scarlet, crimson and wine red, amalgamated into the nightmarishly gory landscape.
Even though the older lady's persistent attempts to not taunt with modicum of farther noise and any meaningfully idle motion the younger, unknown woman whose recent victim was the cannibalized ominously, unholy Timothy, all of a sudden the same woman's long mop of greasily unhealthy, perky chestnut tresses waltzed and bounced when the cannibal shifted her attention to her forthcoming victim after stealthily dedicating her trust to her own instincts to confront Jude. Meantime, demon horns, escorted comfortingly by a long, jubilant demon tail pricked balefully the cannibal, ushering her marvelously christened in gore mouth to twist into a complacent, vile grin, eyeing jadedly, hungrily glassy her impending prey who stifled the series of blatantly painful coes after witnessing the eldritch vista.
"No way!" Hitching awkwardly her breathing, the Bostonian's heart raced timelessly even elaborating sluggishly the heart pulsations, gearing their throbs into her flimsy chest.
--- *** ---
--- End of Dream ---
--- Back to Reality ---
--- A Couple of Hours Later or So ---
"Arghhh!" As soon as the former sleazy nightclub singer came to her senses after her brief catnap during her lacking concentration on stilling her awaked condition during the reassuringly elegant massage on her back, the same masculinely strong, deft hands managed to knead slowly but surely, gracefully each inch of symmetric flesh, contacting gently beneath his digits and fingertips with each gracefully fashionable motion and manipulation of his fingers. "Stay away from me, ya freaking cannibal!"
"Shh, shh, shh, rare bird! You're in safe hands and you had just a bad dream." Maneuvering his naturally nude pink, plumpish lips to lull the soothingly tuneful shush to tingle its brightly contrasting tune into the former nun's flexible ears, suddenly he leaned down to plant a tender, steamy peck on her spine, admiring her ethereal grace, boldly exposed in its own nudity.
The truth eventually was interpreted in the relentless circumstances of the wed duo being already in Adams, Tennessee for a handful of hours and booking their own room in one of the nigh hotels which was about to shut down within a month, due to the lack of customers monthly and its nefarious backstory back in its very first years of its foundation. Further, Edward was already swaddled warmly and deeply drifted off asleep in his own basket, while the British compatriot originally seated on the edge of the king-sized bed with its promisingly exquisite scarlet silky blanket embellishing the mattress.
"Am I really?"
"Yes, you're! There's no reason to be afraid of something that's far cry from real."
"T-That cannibal," Series of gentlemanly exquisite, adroit kneads of Judy's slim spine stung its retrospective pause of hers during her monologue's beginning, biting reluctantly her tongue and melting beneath her husband's loving, protective touch. "Was a woman and skinned on her yar corpse. It was absolutely disgusting."
"Everything is okay, Jude! There aren't any cannibals anymore or they're just one in ten thousand people at least." Crafting its soothingly romantic, tuneful coe after bending down his torso as his lips gingerly, welcomingly lubricated with its own lethal, subtlely bewitching touch the older lady's earlobe. "Or at least, if there's one cannibal who is about to eat you, I swear to God, I'd teach him a decent lesson to not mess with anyone of us. Neither me, nor you, my rare bird."
Author's Note: I'd like to apologize so much for the delaying updates, nevertheless, sometimes an author's block is killing me along with my hectic daily life.
Who do you think might be the father of Martha's unborn child? Is it possible Jude and Timothy to have more than one child? Do you strongly believe they're into desolated, hazardous places for showing their romance?
And of course, don't forget to comment your favorite moment! I would kindly appreciate it! Last but not least, I hope you liked and enjoyed the chapter! :))