Chain Reaction 3.1.82: White Woolly Mammoth in the Room

Maybe NSFW due to all the skin. :)

 

Darrin

     Ever have that feeling when you wake up and have no idea where you are for a moment? That's me right now. The first thing I notice is Ivy's hand on my arm. Next is that I slept in a seated position on the floor, my head resting on... Ivy's breast. Aaaaannnnd apparently my hand is on the other one. For a moment, I don't want to wake up. One of my legs is asleep.

     I lift my head a fraction and notice Michael using Ivy's knee as a pillow, his arms wrapped around her leg. I can't help but think that I chose a more comfortable option.

    Holy f--king f--k, what the f--k happened last night?

     I remember thinking how it was so cute how they both fell asleep on me. It felt good, and even in my drunken mind, it was like I was protecting them, Mike because of all the sh*t he's been through, and Ivy because she's bat sh*t crazy.

    Then she woke up, and I didn't want the 'Mr. Protective' to end yet.

    Have I ever mentioned I do stupid, crazy sh*t when I'm drunk? Ivy was looking at me with that whole hero worship thing she has going lately, and I really liked it. She looked like she wanted to kiss me, and I really wanted her to. But I knew she'd only want a quick one, so I grabbed her and held her. I admit I was curious, and it was so. sweet.

   Then Mike woke up, and things got crazy.

     Ivy moans, starting to stir. It can't have been but two or three hours since our wild night. Her hand moves, and she puts it over mine. I lift my head and see her looking at me, so I sheepishly move my hand off her. Next, she tries to move her leg, and I notice a tiny smile on Mike's lips. That bastard is faking it! He's not asleep and doesn't want to let go of her leg.

     "Mike," she moans and tries to move her leg. He only grips it tighter.

     "Okay, Mike, you cheeky bastard. Let Ivy have her leg back."

     He makes a childish noise and doesn't let go.

     Then we get a shock. "Daddy. Brent hungee."

     Holy sh*t! Brent has climbed down the stairs a few times, but this is the first time he's done it alone. One of us is always up with him when he wakes up. Guess I can't say always anymore.

     Mike does his best to keep his cool, the same panicked look that must be reflected in my face. "Okay, buddy. What do you want?"

     "Pancakes!" His favorite. He always wants pancakes.

     The two of them walk into the kitchen, hand-in-hand.

      "Oh my maker," Ivy says and sits up.

     "What is it?" It could be a dozen different things.

     "He could've fallen down the stairs and broke his neck!" Trust a mother to think of the worst possible outcome.

     "But he didn't. We'll get a baby gate installed. We should've done it before now, but, well, we've always been around him."

     "And to think we were celebrating last night that he was finally sleeping in his room by himself. Only for him to have to come downstairs to find us. What if we'd have spent last night celebrating, then... that, only for him to wake up in the morning and fall down the stairs?" She's going to go into full panic mode if I don't calm her down.

      I sit on the sofa next to her.

     "But it didn't happen. Don't spend your time worrying about things that didn't happen."

     "But it's my job as his mother to worry about what could possibly happen so that it doesn't happen, and again, I stink at it."

     "No, you don't." I rub her back. "You're a great mom. Stop trying to be perfect."

     "But I have to be!" Yep, she's gonna lose it.

     "No, you don't. I just wish I had a mom like you when I was real little."

     "But... your parents love you."

     "I mean my birth mom."

     "What happened to her?" Good. Change the subject little by little.

     "My birth father beat her to death."

     "Holy sh*t, Darrin!" she quietly exclaims, and I find it almost funny. We're all trying to limit our bad language so that we don't let it fly around Brent. I have the worst time at it. "How old were you?"

     "Four. I forgot about it, mostly, for a long time, but it all started coming back to me in my early twenties." I take a breath. "It's one of the main reasons I decided to become a police officer."

     "So that you could save... a child you." A tear escapes.

     She gets emotional at lightning-fast speeds.

     "Yeah. I guess." I rub her arm. "So there you have it. You're a good. mom."

     She stares off into space, thinking. Finally, she says, "Well, I guess comparatively. But all I can think about is everything I've ever done wrong."

     "Same. I call him the ogre, that part of me that refuses to let up." And right now I'm a married man, being attracted to someone who's not his spouse. That's not to say it's her more than Mike. Hell no. But if anyone told me so much as six months ago what happened last night, I'd punch them in the face and tell them to get the f--k out of my house.

     She starts crying. "I hate it."

     I let out a huff. "Dammit, Ivy." She doesn't resist when I pull her into my arms.

      I don't know what this is going to solve, but I like it anyway. I'm just holding her. That's all.

     "Darrin, this is crazy."

     "Yep." I agree.

     "Last night was crazy."

     "It was."

     "That was only supposed to be a quick kiss."

     "I know." I say it in a way that lets her know that I did it on purpose. Well, Drunk Darrin did it on purpose.

     "What is happening?"

     "I have no idea. We need to bring Mike into this discussion, but while I have you here, I want to know: you don't hate me anymore, do you?"

     She sighs. "No. I mean it when I say you're my hero."

     I smile. "I like that more than I thought I would."

     She stiffens. "What if Mike walks in here and sees this and thinks the wrong thing? Drunk Mike and Regular Mike aren't always the same person."

     "Hm. I think they are, actually." I hold her a little tighter when she starts wiggling, trying to get up. She says my name in a complaint, and I let her go.

     Then Mike walks in the room. He looks just as stricken as Ivy did before I calmed her down. "I never thought he'd do that on his own," he gasps out.

     Ivy lets out a cry and lets Mike hug her.

     "I'm so sorry, Ivy. We should've been paying more attention."

     "Don't, Mike. Darrin just worked real hard to calm me down."

     "Okay," he says into her hair. Then, he takes a breath. "Well, let's then address the white woolly mammoth in the room. How are you? Are you okay?" He looks up from Ivy's hair, and one of his hands reaches out to me.

     I obey its command and go to him like the lovesick puppy that I am.

     Ivy answers, "My, um, legs kind of hurt."

     Oh, plum, the flashbacks I'm having! I watch Mike's beautiful eyes twinkle as he grins.

     "Well, that's not surprising, I guess."

     I'm a tad sore, but I'd never tell him, not if it's just this. I'm just so f--king glad he was finally able to orgasm.

     Mike continues, "I was meaning emotionally." He watches me closely. I lean in and gently kiss him as my answer. Ivy stays quiet. "I've accepted that I'm just a freak after all."

     "No, you're not," I argue.

     He doesn't respond but keeps going. "It's just... I liked that. But that doesn't mean I have to have it."

     I think for a minute. "You know, I have a feeling things were headed there anyway if nothing changed." And I hope he understands that at first it was a crazy, drunk decision to kiss Ivy.

     Mike smiles at me. F--k, he's beautiful. Then he looks down at Ivy. "You're. quiet." He says it in such a way as to imply he knows that means she's hiding something.

     "I'm trying to process it. I mean, it was wild, but in a good way. It's just... I have to come to terms with it." In other words: she has to decide whether or not she considers herself a freak. We've been there.

    I hope she understands my meaning. "Ivy, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." Well, she is a bit crazy, but we like that about her.

    She mumbles something about wanting to go get dressed, and we let her go.

     She stays quiet about last night for the rest of the day, and we don't try to get her to talk. In the evening after putting Brent to bed, she comes and tells us she's flattered, and that if we're okay with it, she's okay with it.

     Yeah, we're okay with it. I think Mike and I need to give it some more discussion, but right now, our other brain takes over as we pull her into the bedroom to celebrate.

     Monday, we get a call from Jarvis asking us if Mike and I could stay over for dinner when we come to get Brent. My stomach clenches up as I tell him we can. A few weeks ago, Charlotte had the thing done that could possibly make her pregnant with my child. We haven't heard the results, so this could either be a good dinner or a bad one. Either way, I doubt I'll have much of an appetite.

     She prepared some kind of dish and then proceeded to hand us chopsticks. I can handle them just fine, but Mike decides just to stab his food and eat it like a caveman.

     I wish she would just tell me. Why didn't she tell me the second I walked in? That tells me it's bad news. I guess that makes sense. She wouldn't want to tell me bad news over the phone.

     "So, I, uh, like how the weather's getting warmer." Plum. Really, Darrin? The f--king weather? 

     Jarvis takes pity on Mike, showing and explaining how to hold the chopsticks properly. "Then just imagine it's like a crab claw. That's what works for me."

     "Well, my crab lost his claw and has to stab things with the nub nature left him." Mike says it so straight-faced that I have to laugh. Dammit, Charlotte! Just TELL ME! 

     Charlotte smiles, and finally looks like she's ready to reveal her news. Wait. She's smiling. Does that mean it's good?

     "So I got a call from the doctor's office today." Her eyes are practically glowing. Yep, I can't eat another bite.

      Mike goes to stab his food again and misses, the bit he was aiming for jumping off his plate.

     "And?" My hands are sweating.

      Mike tries to pick up his next piece of food the correct way, and he succeeds, but then it flings off the sticks and lands in the fireplace.

      "I'm pregnant! You're going to be a father, Darrin!"

      I want to cry. I can't believe it.

      She looks like she's reading me. "No, don't be sad! This is a happy moment!"

     "I'm not sad," I tell her as I wipe under my eyes. "I... just can't believe... after everything." I stand up. "Oh my maker, come here!" I hug her tightly.

     She really is a fantastic person. If she's anything like Mike's mom was, then yes, Malcolm Landgraab got off easy when Mike killed him. Ethan and I spent most of the day at work talking, and a large portion of it was about Claire. He said the twins remind him so much of her, not only in looks but how each of them acts. Chloe is very artistic and emotional, and Charlotte just wants to help the world. Though, looking around, I see Charlotte is also artistic.

     After I'm done hugging Charlotte, I go over and hug Jarvis too. He acts a bit surprised, but that doesn't stop me. I can guess it must be a bit weird for him that his wife is carrying someone else's child. I'm sure to thank him for his part in it too. He simply replies that he'd do anything for Lottie.

     He knows he married the most wonderful woman on the planet.

     Later, Lottie, I mean Charlotte, is sure to tell us that she doesn't consider the baby her baby. It's mine, and as far as she's concerned, Mike is the mom. I smirk, and Mike gives her a look. She sticks her tongue out at him like a kid. Jarvis just laughs and gathers the dirty dishes.

     Everything is sunshine and roses. My life is damn near perfect.

 

     Then Chief Foster calls me. The inquiry on Drake Goth's death is on Friday, and he tells me to be prepared in case I'm arrested.