Jon moved his stroking touch to her shoulder, her upper arm, holding her closer to his side. She could feel his desire to protect. Help. It was a reminder of how a woman could rediscover her strength, when a good man supported and loved her.
“Thanks to you, I started getting those other memories back,” she said. “I realized I made mistakes, but I didn’t deserve contempt. Cole made me believe that I did. I let him do that to me. I would have figured it out eventually…and Kyle would have figured it out, too. I knew his heart. He was a loving boy. Time. We just ran out of time, but there was never a moment he wasn’t loved. He might not have been at a place to appreciate it, but…”
She wiped away tears, smiling when Jon helped with his long, gentle fingers. “I was meditating not too long ago and…I felt it. Felt him. Felt his love, like he was reaching across that space, and I knew he was okay. We were okay. I suspect that’s been there waiting for me, waiting for me to lift the walls I’d put up around myself, sealing in all that grief and guilt. The guilt drained out, the past let go, and there he was.”
She took a breath. “I heard him. Just a word. Mom. It was everything.”
He put the photo album aside and held her, letting the tears take her. The cry was hard, as it always was, with a lot of body-wrenching sobs. However, for the first time since Kyle’s death, the grief didn’t take her into despair. When the tears ebbed, she was on a quiet, contemplative shore, held in Jon’s arms. And she felt as if life, horrible as it could be, held a lot of mystery and wonder, and Kyle was cocooned somewhere in that mystery, safe and well.
When she eased back, Jon pressed his lips to her forehead. She rested her palms on his chest, the white shirt front, inhaling the fabric and all it held. The K&A offices, the New Orleans city streets, their home…and the unique scent that was all him.
Removing his arm from her shoulders for only a moment, Jon reached toward the coffee table. She noticed a trade-size booklet that he must have placed there before coming to find her. So focused on his unexpected arrival and the photo album, she’d missed it. He handed it to her and put his arm around her again.
“This is the other reason I went in to the office. Cassandra was finishing it last night.”
Against a teal blue fabric cover was a glued wooden frame, which contained side-by-side pictures. One of Kyle as a baby, and one in his dress uniform, the last formal picture taken of him. Along each side of the wooden frame was a repeated stamped series of words in metallic gold. “In honor and memory of Kyle Madison. Rachel’s son.”
Her fingers were trembling, and she could feel new tears on her cheeks. Jon helped her turn the pages. There were nineteen. On top of his observant nature, Jon was a good listener. He and she had gone through the photo album they’d just been looking at before, and he’d apparently remembered the right picture to match Kyle’s age, one through nineteen. Because on each page was a reproduced color picture of Kyle at that age. Next to the picture was a photo of a gift appropriate to that year.
Romper Room toys, Lego sets, a colorful set of classic children’s stories, like Treasure Island and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Then a bicycle, music player, game box, and the list went on, all the way to nineteen.
“Those are the gifts we all donated to the local children’s home, in honor of Kyle.”
She clutched the book tight, laid her chin on the top of it, turning her face into Jon’s touch as he lifted his palm from her shoulder to cup her cheek. He used that pressure to direct her to lean back against him, tuck her head beneath his jaw as she held the book against her breast.
“You’ve been working on this a while.” She took a tremulous breath. “Oh, Jon. I really am sorry. To think I thought… I really do sometimes revert to the way I thought before, that I have to handle everything alone. Part of it is the submissive thing, I think.”
“Yes, it is.” He squeezed her. “But the kind of submissive you were before. You know better now. That’s why you called me. Not soon enough, mind you.” The lines around his riveting eyes creased in humor as she tipped her head back to look up at him. “So that’s three. Tomorrow, after Kyle’s day is done, we’ll start our morning with a stimulating punishment.
“Promise?” Her stomach muscles fluttered as she contemplated it.
“Guaranteed. It is a birthday, after all, and what’s a birthday without a spanking? I think Kyle would have agreed with me that you should have known I wanted to be here with you, rather than not be bothered or burdened.” He tapped his belt with significance as he gazed up into the air. “Let's see. Since I believe Kyle is on yet another life’s journey, I think it makes the most sense to go with the age he’d be now. Don’t you?”
Returning to the present and the arms of her husband, the warm nest of their bed, Rachel let her gaze drift over her son’s smiling face in the photo montage. When she closed her eyes, that fond memory and Jon’s arms made it easy to fall into dreams.
Though just before she did, she remembered his promise about that girl-girl fantasy he and the other men were devising. The poignant memories of a mother gave way to the anticipatory flutters of a woman. How would it happen? And Dana…how did she feel about it? Would they be allowed to talk about it with one another beforehand?
Probably not. Jon, as much as the others, liked the sensual tension that not knowing what was going to happen could create. She had no doubt of one thing, though. When it did happen, it would be another sexual adventure she’d dreamed of, but never expected to have.
The wait wasn’t long. Wednesday night, as they were washing up their few dinner dishes together, he told her there was a Friday night poker game planned at the K&A board room.
“Oh. That’s good.” Though she was secretly disappointed that they would have to miss or move their Friday night ritual, she never begrudged him time with the K&A men. Guys needed guy time, the same way girls needed girl time, and a poker night would certainly need to be on a weekend night when no one had to get up early for work. “Do you want me to make some of those homemade baked chips that Ben and Lucas like?”
“They’d appreciate that. But you’ll be coming with me. As my submissive. Remember what we talked about a few days ago? The girl-girl fantasy?”
She was glad she had her hands in the soapy water, not holding a dish to hand over to his side. “Um, yes.”
Jon, apparently in a far calmer state, put the plate he was rinsing in the drainer. He propped a palm on the edge of the sink and ran a hand down her back, caressing the top of her buttocks and then dropping his touch to caress those curves, rub them in a slow, circular and completely distracting manner.