Thanksgiving 2010 was the first time in years that I did not have to cook. I thought it would be awkward not being the one to get up early and get everything prepped. It felt good to sleep in.
David and I had just gotten married and were very much still in the honeymoon phase. There were lots of "I love you" floating around our days along with shows of affection, like kissing and hugging. All of which seemed to upset my new mother-in-law.
"I won't have that in my house," she told us, "married or not"
I thought it was strange enough that she said that.
It was even stranger that David listened.
My first instinct was to tell her, "Rhonda, I will fuck your son's brains out in your bed if you don't shut your mouth"
I had to call her Rhonda. She flat out told me not to call her mom.
I was a little upset that he didn't stand up to her at least a little. It was her house and all, so we had to respect her rules, but having David not so much as holding my hand really pissed me off.
I didn't talk to anyone for the rest of the day unless they cornered me to have to respond. His mother insulted me with left-handed remarks during the few conversations that turned my way.
"You're probably not used to having such a juicy turkey," she sounded delighted to tell me.
She looked me right in the eyes as she said that one.
I drove home that night after David had a few too many watching football with his brothers. I watched the four of them who were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch while the television was at a respectable level. They even restrained their celebrations to not cause a ruckus.
He looked like a prince who had overfed himself and drank so much that he became as fat as he was content, and it made me sick to see him in the passenger seat.
"Did you have a good time?" I asked, trying not to sound like a bitch
The result of the tone of my voice was debatable, but I don't think he noticed.
"I did," he answered. "How about you?"
"I did," I answered without taking my eyes off the road.
The back roads between his mother's house and our house had the danger of deer running out in front of cars and it was dark.. That was my excuse to concentrate on the road and not look at my husband. I fucking hated him at the moment.
I reached my hand over to his and tested the waters. His hand lovingly cupped over mine.
I smiled and moved my hand to lay it on his leg.
"I love you" I said.
Sometimes I just need to hear the echo, even if I don't love you at that moment.
"I love you too, Melinda," he answered.
I have always loved hearing him say my name. He did that a lot when I first met him. It made me feel special. Like I had his complete attention.
"Take these down," I told him as I pulled at the leg of his jeans.
I kept my eyes on the road but could see my husband eagerly take his jeans to his knees.
I rubbed my hand over the crotch of his boxers and cupped his balls in my hand.