Sometimes the best laid plans blow up in your face. Sometimes you think you have a brilliant idea, but there is hell to pay.  And sometimes the ones who volunteer to collect in behalf of hell are your very own family members.

First, Lorrie glared at us for the rest of the night.  Mel kept sniffing and asked if we were sure that she wasn’t going to jail for not doing her homework.  They both told on us and Martha came storming in to give us her two cents worth.  And my lovely wife, coward that she is in the face of ankle biters with runny noses and perturbed expressions baled on me and said it was my fault, entirely.

See if you get any tonight Ms. Walters!

So what happened was this.  Mel was crying because we were making a point about her not doing her homework and misleading us to think that she’d done it at school.  I guess that’s why it’s called homework, right? You do it at home.  Maybe that reminder would have been enough.

But, we went all out and made up a story about a guy who tried to swindle us and for his neglect when it came to fact checking property rights; he got caught and ended up in the slammer for at least 15 years. Sounds plausible, right?

It was plausible enough that poor Melanie ran crying to her sister and pleaded with her to not let the sheriff take her to jail. She promised to do her homework, in between sobs and wiping at her runny nose, and I’m not sure which thing set Lorrie off the worst. That we freaked out her baby sister, who she is very protective of, or that it caused her shirt to be covered with tears and snot.  Of course, our deception was mixed in there somewhere, and the little turd got a full confession from Lex, who was an emotional mess, even worse than Mel, for causing her baby such distress.

But it didn’t end there.  At dinner, Lex insisted on holding Melanie on her lap and fed her bites in-between kisses on the forehead and enough apologies to last a lifetime.  I reluctantly apologized, too, and admitted that we made up the story to teach Mel a lesson. 

Trouble was, our Lorrie is brilliant at holding grudges.  She is positively the best at figuring ways to get even. It reminds me of when Jeannie and I were kids and I’d do something to piss my sister off. She took extreme delight in making my life hell until she figured I’d suffered enough. Then she gave it to me again just for good measure.

So, the next afternoon, I was putting away Eddie’s clean clothes and straightening up his diaper bag when Martha and Charlie followed Lex into Eddie’s room. 

“Amanda Walters! How dare you scare that baby girl like that! You should be ashamed!”

You know, Lex nodded her head in agreement.  “Hey, you’re just as guilty as I am.” 

“Both of you should know better,” Martha insisted. “Remember when you were trying to teach our sweet Melanie to tie her shoes? Amanda, you told her that she wasn’t going to be able to turn five years old if she didn’t know how to tie her own shoes, because every kid had to learn that before Kindergarten.”

“She learned, didn’t she?” I thought it was a brilliant suggestion at the time. Twenty minutes later, Mel was demonstrating her skill with her shoe laces.

Martha harrumphed.  She never harrumphs.  But she harrumphed just the same. “And the time that you told her that she couldn’t start school until she could say her address?”

I was feeling particularly picked on, while my wife tried to blend in with the paint on the wall.

“Well, Ms. Walters. You’ve gone too far!” Martha nodded at Charlie, who leaned into the hallway and whistled. I looked at Lex to see if she knew what Charlie was up to. We heard Lorrie’s voice telling someone to come on up the stairs. Suddenly, Jeremy, who succeeded Charlie as sheriff, came in dangling two sets of hand cuffs.

“I’m sorry to have to do this,” Jeremy said. “But relating a false police activity is a misdemeanor.  I’m afraid I’ll have to take you both in.”  He held out one of the pair of hand cuffs and gestured for me to go first. “I hear you’re the ringleader,” as he snapped the cuffs around my wrists. “I’ll put you in the squad car and come back for your accomplice.” And he marched me down the stairs and led me outside and stuffed into the back of his car. Then he went back inside and emerged a few minutes later with Lex.

Lex and I looked at each other. “Any more bright ideas, Lex?”

“Nope. None. I’m sure this is a mistake.”

Martha and Charlie came out to the car to bid us goodbye and to promise to look after the children. Martha still had an indignant expression on her face and Charlie’s face was unreadable. Lorrie was looking a bit too smug, though. I smelled a rat.

Guess what happened next?

Melanie had been on a play date and got a tummy ache so Wanda brought her home early. They pulled up to the house within seconds of Lex being put into the back of the squad car.  She freaked.

“Please don’t take my mommies to jail!”

Suddenly, it occurred to me that there were a couple of family members that were about to get their come-uppance. “It’s okay, sweetie. We did a bad thing when we made up that story about a police case, and now we have to go to jail, just for a little while.”

Mel screamed, “No!” and she pulled at Jeremy who gave it up right there and helped us out of the car and removed the handcuffs. Without a word, he got into his car and drove back down the drive like a bat out of hell.

Martha suddenly had an intense interest in an ant hill a few feet in front of where she was standing. Charlie seemed to be preoccupied with the weather. And Lorrie was stealthily sneaking up the porch steps.

Melanie, the poor traumatized kid, threw herself into our arms and cried, which of course made the guilty parties feel even lousier.  We wiped her face and Lex picked her up and carried her inside, right past Charlie and Martha.  I stared at them both until they looked back at me.

“Couldn’t that be called, false arrest, sheriff?”

Charlie rubbed his stubbled chin while trying to figure out what to say in his defense.

“I’ll let it go this time, but don’t let it happen again.”

Penance is such a lovely word.

For the next week, we had all the cookies, cakes, and pies Martha could turn out.  She baby sat the kids so that Lex and I could have a few romantic nights alone.  And Melanie has not missed even one homework assignment.

As for Lorrie—the stables have never been cleaner.

Amanda.

Lex and I received a note that Melanie’s teacher pinned to her shirt, and dared her to take off, to make sure that we saw it.  It appears that our happy-go-lucky daughter has developed a serious aversion to doing her homework.

“I did it in class.”

No, our little Mel did not do her homework in class. She did work like it in class and decided that she didn’t need the practice of also working on it at home. Consequently, she had nothing to turn in when she got to school in the morning. According to Mel, her outside playtime would be seriously “compomiced” if she had to stay inside and do homework instead of playing on her new tire swing in the front yard.  Poor Mel.  She really does try, doesn’t she?

We could have yelled, we could have put her on restriction. We could have done a lot of things. But we decided to scare the crap out the little con artist instead.

We rummaged through the files and found some old court documents from several years back when Hubert was trying to get the ranch away from Lex.  They still looked like they were in good shape, so we sat Mel down in the den and started the Lex and Amanda Community Play House’s version of that new stage play, “Do Your Homework.”  And we made sure that Lorrie was at Martha’s so that she couldn’t interrupt and blow our story to bits.

“Do you know what this is, Mel?” Lex asked as she sat Mel on her lap. She handed me the document to unfold.

Melanie shook her head ‘no’.

I unfolded the document and gave it back.  Lex quickly passed the court document in front or our daughter’s eyes so that she could see that it was official.

“There is a man in prison right now who should have done his homework and found out that this exists. Because he didn’t, he did something that got him arrested and convicted and put in prison for 15 years.”

Mel’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard.

Lex looked at me, because she couldn’t lie to the kids without them knowing it immediately. I, on the other hand, had no such problem.

“Mel,” I said, “a man came to our house and asked for your Momma. When Lex came to the door, he handed her a paper like this and said that she had been served.”  When Mel’s expression showed that she didn’t understand, I said, “That means that she was being taken to court because the paper said that another person claimed that her land blocked the neighbor’s land from having access to water. And the neighbor needed water for his cattle.  It was all a lie, Mel.”

“He lied?”

“Yes. The way the document was worded made it look like we had done something very wrong. But it also said that the neighbor would settle for a half-million dollars so that they could bring in their own water source.”

“What did you and momma do?”

“We did our homework, which is something that the man should have done. You see, he used the name that he had seen on the fencepost at the entryway to that property when he made up his phony story and tried to sue us. But, when your momma bought that land eight years ago, she never got around to painting over that name.  We double checked and, sure enough, the man was trying to fool us into paying him a lot of money for what turned out to be our own property.  We also found out that no one had filed any lawsuit against us, and the whole thing was an attempt to get his hands on our money.

“He should have gone to the county assessor’s office because they have the name of the owners of all the land in this county. Then he would have known not to mess with us. But he didn’t do his homework.”

Mel gulped. Her eyes started to show that she knew we were going to talk about her homework.

“It turns out that this man had made a lot of money from other people who believed what was in his phony court summons. They paid him off so that they wouldn’t have the expense of a trial.”

“But you knew he was lying, right mommy?”

“Not right away. But when we did our own homework, we realized that he was a very bad man and we sent the sheriff after him.”

I took a glimpse at Lex’s face. She seemed positively captivated by my story. In fact, she said, “What happened next?” Then she realized that she had been caught up in the story and cleared her throat and tried again. “You should tell Mel what happened next.”

“Mel. Because he was such a bad man and had taken so much money from people that he had no right to sue, the judge put him prison for at least 15 years.”

“Do you know why we are telling you about this, Mel?” Lex asked. Sure, I go though concocting all these details and Lex gets to bring it home and tell Mel the moral of the story.

“You should always do your homework. You may have done the same thing before, but you should always do your homework so that you don’t get into trouble one way or another.”

Mel started crying, sobbing, snot running down her face. “I’m sorry, “she cried.  “I’ll bring my homework home.”

Guess whose impeccable timing caused her to return from Martha’s just then?  Mel ran to her sister and clung to her and pleaded, “Don’t let Sheriff Jeremy take me to jail!” Mel was inconsolable and her sister was pissed off.

Lorrie held her sister while she cried and asked us accusingly, “What did you two do this time?”

Amanda.

To my sister Jeannie’s dismay, I do not get British comedies. The closest thing to a British comedy that I enjoyed was the movie, A Fish Called Wanda.  Jeannie insists that it wasn’t really a British comedy, but it had John Cleese, and who in their right mind doesn’t love John Cleese?

So she recorded a few of her favorites for me to watch when we dropped Teddy off after school one afternoon.  I’d picked Teddy and my girls up and met Jeannie at the front door. She pressed an iced tea into my hand and relieved me of my purse and keys before steering me to her living room and starting up the DVR.

For an hour and a half, she made me watch her favorites, Fawlty Towers, Are You Being Served, and Keeping Up Appearances.  I stared at the television for an hour and a half while my kids seemed to catch on right away and loved them all.

From time to time, their giggles would fill the air and Jeannie would look at me to see if I got the jokes. I didn’t.  First of all, were there jokes? All were situational comedies about people that I’d rather not know by any means, and the last one really got my hackles up.  About half-way through Keeping Up Appearances, Jeannie put her finger on why I was becoming more and more hostile toward the main character, Hyacinth Bucket, who insisted on pronouncing her last name as “Bouquét”.

“Doesn’t she remind you of mom before she went bat shit?” Jeannie asked.   “Always wanted to impress people with her wealth and social connections?”

That was it. Before she started embezzling corporate funds, hiring hit men to kill my wife, burning down our home, and kidnapping my daughter.  If she hadn’t gone down that path, would I have found her social climbing activities to be as funny as Jeannie thinks Hyacinth Bucket’s are?  No, I don’t think so.  I never did find her funny.  I guess, Jeannie, being the younger of the two of us and married to someone that my mother found acceptable, didn’t have to go through all the trauma that my mother put me through. And later, Lex and our family.

Thank god she had the good graces to run out in front of Lex’s truck and put an end to all our suffering. Poor Lex. She really felt guilty about leaving tire tracks on dear old mum.  But I was relieved. And thankful.  Even though it was an accident on Lex’s part. She had no way of avoiding my lunatic mother. But at least it stopped all the insanity.

I bet Richard Bucket has had similar thoughts about pushing Hyacinth in front of oncoming traffic. It reminds me of Dad, always trying to make peace while my mother ran roughshod over him.  Turning away from the man my grandparents raised him to be in order to please his psycho wife.

Afterward, I explained how Keeping Up Appearances brought back so many painful memories and my sister understood.

But what about Are You Being Served?  Torture. No bad memories, but it’s just plain god awful.

And John Cleese in Fawlty Towers?  I could learn to hate John Cleese.

Amanda.

“Momma, you’re squishy right here.”

Our daughters have never been known for having tact.  About the most tactful thing either one has ever said is when Lex got dragged out of a stagnant mud hole and slid right into a pile of horse pucky.

You know that Lex can find a mud hole in a draught, right? Well that’s exactly what happened. With no new rain, every decayed and decaying piece of organic matter that could stink things up created a stench from hell.

This time, she managed to twist her ankle going into the mud hole, and strain her back climbing out. Unfortunately, none of the ranch hands were with her, so she had to get herself out.  Her radio was strapped to her saddle, and her cell phone was useless in the gully where she landed.

Did I ever mention that for a powerful steed, Thunder is a big, flakey, scaredy cat?  Lex said she didn’t really see what spooked him. She was too busy being thrown from the saddle.  She made it home in complete misery to be greeted by our oldest.

“Oh, Momma! You stink on ice!” She covered her nose and made gagging sounds.

When Lex asked for a hand getting off her horse, Lorrie backed off and said, “No way! I don’t want to smell like you!“ And promptly lost her lunch.

Well, being 40-ish is a pain when you have a pain or two and multiple strains and sprains that leave you house bound. Lex is used to being active, and we all know how much she hates being incapacitated. But she really did try to behave.  I got her a set of DVDs of the old series “Wagon Train”, and another one of “Rawhide.”  Did you ever notice the resemblance between Rowdy Yates and Lexington Walters? Tall, lanky, good looking?  Of course, the real Rowdy Yates is in his seventies, but in his younger days, he could have passed for Lex’s brother. 

Lex attempted to ease her descent into being stir crazy by watching old westerns.  And I fed her good, stick-to-your-ribs food since she normally works off every ounce she eats.  After the second week, she’d filled out a bit and our kids noticed. 

“Momma, how come you don’t button your jeans?”

“Momma, can I pinch you on your tummy to see how fat you are?”

“Momma, can I use your tummy for a pillow while we watch TV?”

And the ever popular, “Momma, you’re squishy right here.”

Lex paled. She had never worried about her weight before.  “Do you think I’ll take it off again?”

Actually, I liked seeing a little more flesh on her. It wasn’t much and it looked good. Especially the curvy parts. They were extra enticing and I found myself staring at her at the most inopportune times.

“Mommy, you just set the pot holder on fire.”

“Mommy, you just burned a hole in Momma’s shirt.   Ooh, Mommy, that’s Momma’s favorite, too.”

Lex was across the room in her shorts and sports bra, laughing as I tore my gaze from her body and realized that the ironing was going up in smoke.  She said not to worry.  Seeing the lust on my face was more than enough to make up for burning her clothes. I’m glad. Cause her favorite pants were the next to be flambéed on the ironing table.

Last night, she was finally well enough so that I could do more than stare lustfully at her.  So, of course, this morning, the commentary was like this:

“Mommy, how come your nightgown is on inside out?”

And Mel, “Did you hurt yourself last night, Mommy?”

Of course, Lorrie, the ever helpful older sister couldn’t help but voice her assessment of things.

“Naw, Mel. They were just noisy ‘cause they were having sex again.”

We have to have a long talk with that kid. And I doubt we’ll be tactful.

Some time back, I received a phone call from a woman who identified herself as a writer. She was born and raised in Texas and very much interested in the role women have played in Texas history.  Being from California, I couldn’t help her much, but I did agree to meet with her in town at the café.

Lex was unsure of the reason the woman wanted to visit, so she decided to tag along to make sure that everything was on the up and up and I was safe.

On the day of our appointment with the writer, we dropped Eddie off with my step-mother, Lois, and went on to the café. The girls would be in school for another few hours. So, other than the chores we put off that day, there was really nothing keeping us from meeting with the woman. Believe me, we tried.

I was nervous. If Lex was, she didn’t show it. Well, other than the death grip she had on my arm. But other than that, she was the very picture of calmness.

A middle-aged woman with short hair and glasses stood as we entered the café and motioned us over. How she figured out it was us, I have no idea. Maybe it was because the café’s server, Francine met us with, “Hey, Lex. You sure a lookin’ good, honey.  Manda, that gal of yours better appreciate you all to hell.”

No, we had no idea how the woman knew it was us.

Well, we had the meeting and finally relaxed into our story. The woman set her digital recorder to ‘on’ when she heard us going in the direction she was interested in.  We had ordered lunch, so sometimes our narratives were interrupted by a crunch or two of salad and the hiccups I always get when I eat hamburger.

At one point she asked, “Let me get this straight.  You,” she pointed her fork at Lex, “you rescued Amanda from a raging river? And together you fought off cattle thieves? And raised the youngest one? And you came face to face with a bull? And…”she rephrased the story of our lives so fantastically that we hardly believed our own lives.

All in all, it was an enjoyable afternoon. Well, I enjoyed it much better once we cleared up a few facts with her. But mostly, we had a nice visit.

Time went on and I forgot completely about it. But yesterday, a package came in the mail from a publishing house addressed to “Lex and Amanda, RockingWRanch, Texas”. Good thing she had our zip code right or we’d never have received it.

I waited for Lex to come back from the stables before opening the package. And there it was. Our story. With Illustrations?  Huh? Oh Geez. It’s a children’s book! “My Mommy Raises Cows!”

Amanda.

After a few years being childbirth free,  Somerville finally had a run at the hospital about a year or so ago and now there are a whole new batch  of offspring to care for.   You can imagine the relief when a new child care center opened in town. The old one at the church was unused and in disrepair, but I managed to convince Lex to convert the Sunflower Realty office into a proper day care center, and we advertised for someone to run it.

My grandmother was delighted that we were giving new life to the old place, and tremendously enjoyed decorating it.  After six weeks of looking, we found a director to run the place and an elementary school teacher to handle the educational aspects.

The mothers volunteered for a day of playground duty, diaper changing, and taking care of meals and snacks in the kitchen that we added on so as not to diminish the space that was going to serve as the main room where most activities would be carried out.

We had a fantastic time fixing the place up and getting it ready for the first day of pre-school.  Kay, the director, and Judy, the new teacher, took to their new jobs like fish to water.

Our fifteen month old, Eddie, was going to attend.  The girls were too old, and we were going to follow the same routine with them as usual on school days, but Lex and I thought it would be nice if I could have a day off at least once a week and spend the day with my family in town and then pick the girls up after school.

“All packed up and ready to go?” Lex opened the front door and took Eddie’s diaper bag from my arm while I jostled our boy into a more comfortable position.

“All set.  Promise you’ll miss me?”  I gave Lex a coy look and a saucy wink.

She responded by putting the bag in the back seat of the Expedition, taking Eddie from my arms and buckling him into his car seat, and closing rear passenger door.  Then she turned to me and pulled me into her arms and held me tightly against her while she plied my face with soft kisses that took my libido from zero to sixty in less than a second.  I started to moan and reach under her duster to run my hands over her back. Just as I thought I was getting somewhere, she pulled back and patted me on the behind. “Promise you’ll miss me?”

I swear I would have gotten even with her if I could have done more than deal with my racing hormones which were playing my favorite scenes from our years of loving each other.

Eddie began to fuss, so I reluctantly got into the SUV and shook my finger at my wife, who seemed to be having her own difficulties, if those darkened eyes of hers meant what they usually do.

Once at the day care center, Eddie toddled to some brightly colored toys that had caught his eyes.  There were already a half dozen children, and we had worked things out so that with the proper help, we could manage a dozen or more and keep the state and federal agencies happy.

The kids loved it. Eddie barely noticed me leaving.  When I said I’d be back soon, he actually waived me off and resumed his spot of the floor to push a big green truck back and forth.

The hours passed, and my grandma decided to come with me to pick Eddie up.  Martha had taken the lunch shift, lucky kids, and afternoon snacks were being handed out.

The children sat around a long, low table, just their size, to wait as the teacher addressed each one by name and gave them their snack.

Kay came over while Judy and a teenage helper passed out the treats. “Thanks for bringing a change of clothes for Eddie.”

“You’re welcome. After all, he is a Walters, and he’s bound to need them for one reason or another. So, what did Master Disaster find to get into?”

Kay handed me his diaper bag. Inside, there was a plastic bag that had the clothes he had worn to school. “Paint?”

Kay looked at my grandmother and me apologetically.  “Finger paint. The five year olds were finger painting and Eddie took exception to the age discrimination.”

“Oh no, “ Grandma said. She’d had Eddie over enough times to understand what a strong willed little boy he could be. “Was it bad?”

“Well, we had been intending to decide on a color for that planter near the back door.”

I walked back to the back door that let out into the play yard and saw red, yellow, and blue finger paint all over the planter, the plants, the dirt in the planter, and just about every surface his little fingers could reach.

“Eddie! What did you do?”

“Puck!”

My eyebrows flew into my hairline.  “Did my son say what I thought he just said?”

Eddie looked innocently at me and then back at the mess he’d made.  “Puck!”  Kay just looked at me, obviously confused.

Judy came to his rescue. “I had the privilege of cleaning Jason up after Eddie tried to stick his hands in each paint cup on Jason’s easel.  Jason was none too happy and decided he didn’t want to finger paint anymore. He said, “Paint! UCK!”

Eddie beamed at hearing the words he thought he was saying, “Puck!”

I gathered Eddie into my arms and set his diaper bag’s shoulder strap in place.  As soon as I got into the SUV, I called Lex who immediately called the cleaning service we’d hired and asked them to make an early trip to the school instead of waiting until the evening.

My grandmother went on home, and I decided to pick up the girls and head on home for a nap. Eddie was starting to smell like he was in need of a diaper change. Unfortunately though, before we’d even pulled away from the school,  Mel asked her brother if he liked school.

He nodded.

“What did you do in school today, little man?” Lorrie asked.

I will never forget the look of horror on his sisters’ faces when he plunged his hand down the back of his pants and retrieved something god-awful smelly and proceeded to paint his car seat with it.

“Puck!”

Lex is very indulgent of my penchant for discovering geeky toys that I must own and have needed all my life because, since closing the real estate business, I’ve discovered that I really am a computer addict.

I’ve replaced Lex’s old desktop computer with one that manages the household electronics such as lights, thermostat, and timed devices.  It also runs our wireless network.  Lex’s laptop is the one that manages the farm and backs up to an external drive.  The kids have a notebook computer that they take turns using for school projects.  And I have my notebook computer that I use for my blog, general web surfing, and to shop for more geek toys.

“What’s this do?” she asked while pointing to the object in the CompuGeeks ad for the week. “Is it the same as this one here?”

“It’s a tablet, an e-reader, that I can get my email on and use like a computer, but it’s a lot more portable.”

“But you already have a laptop computer, Amanda. We have plenty of computers.  Do we really need one of these?”  Lex stared at me like she was trying to figure out meaning of life.

I forgot the thread of conversation for a minute, because all these years later, I still get lost when she turns her gaze on me.

She snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my haze.

“Um, Lex.” I got up from my chair at the kitchen table and sat on her lap, straddling her thighs. I leaned in and kissed her, letting her feel the heat of my passion for her.

When I pulled back a second time, Lex moaned, “I’m not sure what we’re talking about, honey, but can we finish it upstairs?”

It’s now three weeks later.  I love having a tablet.  When I can’t sleep at night, I can use the tablet to browse the internet, send a few emails, and read online.  That brings me to the real subject of this email.  I got a reply to my Amanda Speaks! Blog, telling me about some stories I might enjoy.

I really haven’t indulged in Lesbian fiction before, but I have to say, some of it is very inspiring. Some of it has been educational.  Some of it is beyond my ability to suspend belief. But there are a few stories and series that I’ve really enjoyed.

One of the stories had to do with this writer in Texas, a few hundred miles from where we live, who wrote stories on the internet.  She wrote this story that she started receiving e-mails about from a grateful reader.  They became correspondents online, then friends, then fell in love. The reader had been trapped in a horrible marriage and had a child by her abusive husband.  The writer, despite her own personal problems, reached out to the reader to lend encouragement and her friendship.  They eventually fell in love, and the reader found the strength she needed to break out of her misery and to establish a life with the writer, whose love was so freely offered.

I really liked that story.  There was so much in it that reminded me of how Lex and I feel about each other, and it made me appreciate my loving wife even more.

I snuggled next to Lex while she read it the next morning. “Amanda, did you see that this story is based on real events?”

“Can you imagine being that poor woman and feeling so alone and sick and miserable, and then having her whole world, and her daughter’s world turn around and become a haven of happiness for all three of them?”  I brushed the hair back from Lex’s forehead and planted a kiss on it. “I love you, Lex. You rescued me, too.”

“I couldn’t let you drown in that creek, Amanda. Besides, one look at you, even wet and shivering, and I was a goner.  I love you, too, Amanda.  Hey, maybe you should write our story.”  Lex pulled me close until I was snuggled under her chin and my arms were wrapped very securely around her back.

“I don’t know.  Our story might be a little unbelievable.  I think I’ll stick to my blog.”

I looked up to see what Lex’s reaction was, and she kissed me. Once more I forgot what we were talking about and just went with the moment.

Twelve years. Twelve wonderful, crazy, eventful years of our life in a story?  Nah!

Amanda.

It was an ordinary afternoon. The weather was chilly. It had been raining for two days in a row, the kids were restless and the ranch needed all hands to make sure the stock got fed.  Now that we are a cattle ranch as well as a horse ranch, there’s even more to do when we have inclement weather.

Lex tugged on her boots and waterproof duster. Then she put her gloves and black cowboy hat on.  Have I ever mentioned how incredibly sexy she looks in her black cowboy hat?  Can you imagine how my hormones went crazy the first time my eyes focused on her after she pulled me out of my Mustang when the covered bridge collapsed?  I was a goner as soon as I saw those beautiful blue eyes shining out from underneath that weather beaten black cowboy hat.

I’m still a goner. So, right after she went into the hay barn, I put on my warmest jeans, the shirt that she gave me years ago that used to be her younger brother’s and my boots and followed her to the barn. When I could tell Lex was absorbed in thought while she loaded up the truck with bales of hay, I climbed as silently as possible into the loft.  Once there, a creaking floor board gave me away.

Lex looked up to see me standing at the edge of the loft.  “Amanda?” She had the cutest expression on her face. She was obviously puzzled. What was I doing up there? I decided to see how quickly I could jog her memory.

“Can I help?” I carefully got as close to the edge of the loft as possible. Naturally, Lex moved closer, just in case I lost my footing, which I naturally did.

I let myself go and she promptly moved under me to catch me in her arms. “Feel familiar?”

“Amanda, what are you—Oh. Yeah. This seems a bit familiar.” She kissed me and the years melted away.

As she nuzzled my neck, she spoke softly to me, “Do you know what is different about this time?” Then she sucked on my earlobe and I  forgot what we were talking about.

“This time,” she said, “it’s a dozen years later. And my back just locked up. And I have no earthly idea how to put you down without screaming in pain.”

“Oh, Lex! I’m so sorry. Let me—”

“No! Don’t move.  Let me think.” Lex turned around in a small circle and finally figured out that if she got me close enough to the tailgate on the truck, she could put me down there and lie down next to me without it hurting too much.

It worked. There was a lot of wincing, and the sound of wind being sucked in through teeth, but I finally stopped doing that when she was in a comfortable position and I could make myself stop with the sound effects.

I put a small pile of hay under her head and lay down beside her. Then I ran soothing fingers under her shirt to relax her enough to drive the truck to the house and get her inside.

That was the thought, anyway. But Lex had other ideas. My soothing fingers led to her probing fingers and suddenly the thought of back spasms was all gone.

For old time’s sake.

I love you, Lex.

Amanda.

Jeannie and I were talking about how motherhood has changed us both and how hard it is to keep our priorities in order when it comes to our mates.  Poor Lex has been nearly consumed with the cattle business, supplying aged meat to some of Austin and Houston’s finest restaurants.

Keeping up with the kids and managing the house have been more challenging as each year has gone by and the kids get older.  Good old-fashioned romantic evenings are few and far between.  Our spirits and libidos are willing but our flesh keeps saying, “What, are you nuts?”

Jeannie said she and her husband made a trip to Austin and did a little shopping. She handed me two packages and gave me a wink.  “I think you’ll enjoy your romantic evening.”  She told me to wait until Lex and I were getting ready for bed to open the presents and not to open them in the same room. “After all, part of the fun is the surprise.”

That night, when all three kids were asleep, I handed Lex her package and retrieved mine. “What’s this?” Lex asked.

“Something from Jeannie. We’re supposed to open them separately at bedtime.”

“Jeannie?  Are you sure it’s safe? You know your sister, she loves to torment me.”

“I know, but the package is soft. So I figure it’s safe.” I took my package and went into the bathroom with it. Lex decided to sit on the bed to open hers.

“What the fuck!” Lex laughed out loud and came to the backroom door.  “Amanda? Is your sister even a little bit sane? What in the hell?  What are we supposed to do with these?”

I opened the bathroom door and struck a sexy pose. “Like what you see, Slim?” I sashayed past my wife and turned around and played with the front zipper.  It just screams sexy wife, doesn’t it?”

Lex was speechless.  She fingered the material in her hands and said, “I’m not putting this on.”

I went to her and rubbed against the flannel shirt she was wearing. Static filled the air and tiny sparks of electricity could be seen due to the friction of the materials.  “C’mon, sparky. Give it a chance.”

Grumbling, Lex changed into what could only be described as bunny pajamas. Dr. Denton’s for adults. Complete with the flap on the backside.  Finally, we both stood in front of the mirror on the dresser and took stock of what we looked like.

“Well it is warm,” I offered.

“I thought they were supposed to be romantic,” Lex complained. “I feel like a two year old. I thought it’s supposed to make us sexy.”

“Sure to a herd of rabid bunnies.”

“What do you think, Amanda?”

I played with the flap on the back of Lex’s Forever Lazy Adult One-Piece PJ’s and hummed a little bit.

“What are you thinking?”  I must have had that look on my face that made Lex think, “Danger, Will Robinson!”

“Let’s just see what we have here.”  I played with the zipper with one hand and brushed the other hand over the material starting at the collar and down to Lex’s thighs. Then I turned her around and started rubbing my hands over her back and down to the flap in the back. “This could be useful,” I said as I slipped my hand between the flap and her skin.

Lex shivered and I was inspired.

The next morning, Jeannie called while we were still waking up. We’d shed the pajamas hours ago, but they had served their purpose.

In her most smug voice, Jeannie asked, “So, did you like your presents?”

“Mmm. Did we ever. Thanks!”

Lex took the phone and said, “Great idea, Jeannie. We need to go now.”

I could imagine the shock on Jeannie’s face when she realized her joke had backfired. But that thought quickly dissipated when Lex started nibbling on my collarbone and running her hands down my body. Oh yeah! Great gift, Jeannie.