Keeping Up With The Joneses Ch 06

I expected this to be up sooner but I ran out of time and went into a building/cleaning spree. My apologies. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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I sat uncomfortably in the black Mercedes sedan that Dylan rented. He was stiff and it was making me stiff. The car wasn't him. He was more creative in his car choices and this felt more like a hearse. We would've had a better ride in a Honda.

Reaching out, I took his hand and placed it squarely on my stomach. I felt the tension ease out of him. There was something about feeling what he'd done to me that made him contented. His hand worked in small circles, the fabric of the dress wrinkling a little from his work.

It was a cute dress. Cindy bought it for me. It was nautical with white and blue stripes, loose of course, and had a bow behind the neck in a halter top. It was casual and sweet. A silk magnolia blossom graced my curls.

I put my hand over his. "Dylan..."

"Don't worry. I'm on my best behavior." His hand didn't stop and I relaxed my arm so our hands could move as one.

I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted to hear just now. The first time he met my parents, they were on their best behavior but we were heading into their territory. I reminded myself how different things were now. Here I was, a married woman, child on the way. I could be objective when it came to my parents.

The giant oak and magnolia trees told me I was home. They littered our yard and were one of my mother's many pride and joys as well as her rose bushes. I saw her and my father standing on the front steps of the blue two-story. She was in her Sunday finest, a beautiful gold suit that neatly fit her. The hat was large and eye catching, old school first lady.

My father was in a nice suit, red suspenders just peeking out from under his dark blazer. They were what he called "necessary vanity". I'm sure he thought of himself as Atticus Finch or something or maybe he'd just made us watch that movie too much. Either way they stood waiting on us in full southern regalia and high and mighty smugness. Dread chilled me down to my bones.

"We can turn around right now." His voice was solid and serious.

"Of course not Dylan, come on and let's do this." I gripped his hand and put on a big smile as he parked.

He parked but leaned in to look as if he was kissing my cheek. "I dislike this."

"I know; I'm sorry." I whispered quietly through my bared teeth.

He kissed the back of my hand and exited the car before coming over to my side. After opening my door, he leaned across to unbuckle my seatbelt, letting his cologne waft over me. He wore my favorite scent and I just took a second to wrap my arms around him in a hug.

Dylan lifted with me, taking the advantage of the hold to ease me out of the car. When I pulled back, I saw that charming mask hiding my favorite monster. Once again I had to look at the man who hired me and not the one I married.

We walked up the front steps in our false joy. "Hi Mama, Hi Daddy."

"Why Pristine, you look about to pop!" My mother reached for me, snatching me from Dylan and hugging me tight. "Oh but you could have dressed up just a bit."

And so it began. I heard my father briskly shake Dylan's hand with just the acknowledgement of his name. It was already starting so awfully.

I pried myself from my mother's hold and hugged my father. He gripped me for a few moments before patting my back to state that the hug had ended. It was his patented church hug, the same one I grew up with. In fact, I wasn't sure I'd ever received a "real" hug from my father.

"I put on tea; I thought it would be nice to have a chat in the sunroom while you rest your legs. You're a little late, so it's a little cool, how long did you say you all are staying?" My mother pulled my arm, easing me through the door. My father followed and Dylan took up the rear.

"Three days." I stole a glance back at my husband. The mask was still in place except for his eyes. He was not a fan of being this far from me.

"Oh that's good! You could've come a little closer to the weekend though. It would have been nice to see you at a service, although... you might not remember it much since you've started attending... Oh heavenly father, what do they call them? Dylan, what's the name of those meetings your people have in those cathedrals."

"We call them masses, Mrs. Evans." He answered with hollow warmth that made me cringe. Church folk, especially head ministers and first ladies could act up and my mother was showing her ass in front of my husband. I wanted to curl up and dye right at that moment.

We made our way into the sun room. There was tea and cookies and cakes. My mother idolized English high tea and loved to show off the sets she collected. I took the opportunity of her releasing my arm to slide back to Dylan's side so we could sit together on the loveseat on one side. My parents mirrored us on the opposite side: my mother in quiet judgment and my father in absent disapproval.

I nervously reached for a macaroon but my fingers froze as I heard my mother clear her throat. "Pristine... you've been doing so well. I don't want to overstep my place but you should only gain around 15 or so pounds during pregnancy. Maybe you've been over indulging a bit."

My hand eased back into my lap and my mother nodded approvingly. Dylan felt like a stone next to me and I prayed over and over for him to bite his tongue. Without emotion or hesitation, he leaned in to pick up my tea cup and saucer and held it out for me. He took his cup and had a sip but graciously said nothing. I thanked every saint, angel, and name of my lord I could for it.

I excused myself and went to the bathroom, happy to be away from the tenseness for a few moments. There was a knock on the door as I was washing my hands and I opened it to find my mother with a soft smile. "I'm sorry Prissy, I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I know that, Mommy." I gave her a reassuring smile.

"Now, I know it's not my place but have you really questioned him about his intentions? You barely know him. Does he need a green card? Is he into nasty things? Your Aunt Donna was telling me about this thing called squashing and I-"

My jaw dropped and I stared at her. "Mother, are you serious?"

"Now don't take a tone with me, young lady, I'm trying to protect you. These bad men get these nice, naïve girls out here. They build them up, tell them they're this and that and take advantage of them. What if he's a trickster? It's like you married the first man who called you pretty."

I should have been used to my mother's "protective" ways but all I could do was stare at her. I didn't know which hurt worse, the fact that she considered me so naïve or the fact that she thought no man would consider me pretty without wanting something. The squashing accusation was a whole other animal. I walked past her back to my husband and father and she followed quietly.

The tea lasted a few hours and my mother did her best to pry her fingers into every facet of our life. I dodged most of her invasive questions with ease but some took a little bit more work. By the time the sun was starting to set, I was exhausted.

My father's drawl was a welcome reprieve. "Well, it's getting late and you all must be tired. Since you decided to stay in a hotel, I guess now would be the time for you to turn in."

"I'd agree." It was the most my husband had said all afternoon. He helped me up, shook hands, and waited as I gave goodbye hugs before we left back out the front door.

Dylan opened my car door, easing me in and buckling me tight. He kissed my temple and shut the door before going to the driver's side. He slipped in without a word and started the car. I waved to my parents as we pulled away, not relaxing until we were out of their sight.

I broke down on the way to the hotel. Even after all this time, I was still that fat little girl who could be torn to shreds by words. I thought I'd grown but here I was, crying again.

As soon as Dylan parked the car, he was out the door and to my side. He scooped me up and into his chest. I trembled through sobs as he peppered my forehead with kisses. He didn't stop, ignoring the stares as he checked us in and took the elevator to our suite.

The bellhop quietly just followed us with our bags, not asking questions as I buried my face further into Dylan's neck and continued to cry. It was a very nice and expensive hotel and I'm sure they'd seen crazier things. He took his $100 tip and left our suitcases neatly in the bedroom as Dylan sat on the bed with me until I finished crying.

He stroked my cheek as I pulled back, face a mess after all those tears. I sniffled. "She asked if we were into squashing."

I watched his eyes narrow. "You're too skinny and I honestly don't find the appeal. You two are so similar in size..."

"Not to her, to her I'm a whale. She always wanted a 'pretty' daughter. I've only been smart."

He laughed and I wasn't sure if it was insulting or not. "Silly girl," He stole a deep kiss eliciting a moan from me. "You're my beauty, all that I've ever wanted, the only place where I will plant my seed. You're my perfection in flesh."

I giggled and flustered. "Dylan... stop it."

"Make me." He kissed me again as pulled the bow on my neck until it fell, the top of the dress with it. All he had to do was lift me a little to remove it completely.

My strapless bra and lacey briefs were next. He tossed the clothing far away as if they'd offended him by keeping my nudity at bay. I squealed out as he gave an almost primal lick between my breasts.

"I need it to be completely understood that you are all mine, a flawless diamond in my crown. Got it?" There was no filter and he looked up at me with glowing green eyes. His voice had a "tough guy" accent, it was the first time I ever heard the Boston of his childhood in him. I nearly came in his arms.

"I've got it baby." I answered back in my southern twang as I eagerly crushed against him for a kiss. He pulled me over him and ravished me against the sheets until my body gave completely, leaking our love.

I woke up, hours later, still dazed, my body a vibrating mass of dull pleasure. Dylan's arm was wrapped possessively around me and on the bedside table was a pyramid of macaroons in a rainbow of colors. He stirred at my movements and kissed my ear before growling out huskily.

"Alright little Georgia Peach, I played the game your way, but now it's my rules."