Snugglebunny Ch. 11: Remote Control
This is the eleventh chapter in the saga of Chris and Chloe Weber.
While the story can be read separately, I suggest you read the earlier chapters to understand the full context of what is happening here.
It would also help to read "No Greater Love."
This story takes place about 4 years after the events in "Snugglebunny Ch. 10: The Snake."
For those not familiar with the earlier stories, the two main characters often refer to each other as "brother" and "sister," but there is no incest as the two are not related.
Jon and Rose Carlson are from my five-part series, "Rules."
As always, constructive comments are welcome and please remember, this is a work of fiction...
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc.
Sunday, June 5, 2044:
Chris Weber slid the box under the large master bed, hoping his wife, Chloe, wouldn't see it before it was time for her to open it. He finished packing his bags and double-checked to make sure he had everything he would need for his trip.
He had hoped Chloe could join him, but her job at the hospital made it impossible as she was preparing for an upcoming HIPPA audit. Book tours were always exhausting but he found they were more enjoyable when she could be with him. When he closed his last suitcase, he carried it down to the car and loaded it up with his hanging clothing bag.
"You about ready to go, sweetie?" Chloe asked when he came back into the house.
"Yeah," he said, wrapping his arms around the woman he had loved all his life. "I'm gonna miss ya so much. These things are never much fun when you're not with me." She smiled and gave him a kiss.
"Well, we can always talk on the phone, you know," she said. "Truth is, I'm gonna miss you even more."
"I've got a copy of your itinerary, so at least I'll know where you're supposed to be," she said.
"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked.
"I'll manage," she said. "This audit's got me running like crazy lately."
"Well, do me a favor, and call Marilyn if you need any help with anything here," Chris said. Their youngest child, Marilyn, had just graduated with her nursing degree and had just been employed by the hospital where Chloe worked. "Maybe she'll spend the night with you or something. Of course, if there's an emergency, just call me and I'll come right home."
"Don't worry, dear," Chloe said. "This isn't our first book tour, you know. I'll be alright. Of course, I'll call Marilyn if need be, but I suspect she'd rather spend her evenings with George." George Freeman, Marilyn's boyfriend since high school, had also just graduated with his engineering degree and started work at a prestigious aerospace company. The two of them had just gotten engaged and were planning to get married early the next year.
The truth was, he was more concerned about his wife. It had been a little less than four years since the incident with James Ktume, the so-called "Snake" who kidnapped her, drugged her and nearly raped her before he and his friend Ron stopped him. Chris still shuddered when he thought of that incident. That was the first and only time he had ever killed a man, and he hoped he would never have to do it again.
Chloe got through the incident okay, and the Super-E had gotten out of her system. Fortunately, Ktume was never able to finish what he had started. Chloe went through several months of counseling as mandated by the hospital, and she seemed okay on the surface.
But the incident had changed her more than most people knew. Chloe had always been an outgoing, happy woman, but something changed inside her after that. They used to make love with wild abandon whenever, or wherever, the opportunity presented itself -- in the back yard of their country home, on the hood of their car, on the small beach at the family lake house or in their swimming pool.
But that had stopped. In fact, their sex life had practically come to a complete halt. It was as if she was scared that something else would happen. On top of that, she had become somewhat skittish, a bit withdrawn and seemed to be scared of nearly everything.
He realized that age might be playing a role -- they were almost 60 years old, after all. But the change in Chloe was so drastic and sudden. He never pushed her or bugged her about it, but things reached a head one night when he rolled over in bed and put his arm around her.
She screamed as if bitten, jumped out of the bed and fled the room in a panic, locking herself in what used to be Marilyn's room. He was shocked, to say the least. That was the first time anything like that had ever happened. He thought about following her, to see what was bothering her, but decided to give her some space.
She apologized profusely the next day over breakfast, telling him she had a bad dream that night.
"I'm so sorry, Chris," she said.
"Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned for her well-being. "What happened?"
"I had a bad dream about Ktume last night," she told him. "I was surprised when you put your arm around me and for a moment, I thought it was him."
"I'm worried about you," he said. "Maybe we need to seek some professional help. I get the feeling there's other things bothering you as well."
"I think you may be right," she said, taking a sip of coffee. "I've thought about it myself for a while. There's a counselor who works out of her home in town, a Dr. Rose Carlson. My insurance will cover the cost."
"I don't care about the cost," Chris said. "If this counselor will help, then maybe you should set up an appointment. Call her today, please." She nodded her head in agreement.
"I will," she said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run out on you like that."
"It's okay, dear," he said. "Just call her, okay? I love you and I'm worried about you."
"I love you, too," she said. "I'll call and make an appointment, promise."
Rose worked out of an office in her home, which she shared with her husband, Jon, an executive at a large IT company headquartered in town. Dr. Carlson insisted on meeting them both at Chloe's first appointment, so he went. He was impressed with her from the beginning and felt that if anyone could help his wife, she could.
Dr. Carlson, who preferred to simply be called, "Rose," listened intently as they told her about their lives together. She insisted they leave nothing out, so they told her as much about themselves as they could cram into the hour-and-a-half long session.
"How long have you two been married?" Rose asked.
"It'll be 42 years on September 1," Jon said.
"Wow," Rose said. "That's impressive. How long have you two known each other?"
"All our lives," Chloe said. "We were born on the same day in the same hospital, even. Our parents are good friends, so we were practically raised together. I can't tell you how many times people thought we were siblings. It got so we even started calling each other brother and sister."
