This will make more sense if you read the earlier parts. Don't worry, they're fun, action packed, and build the tension. Read them first! Also, all characters are 18 years or older. Enjoy.
*****
Mallory Stevens sat by herself on the couch in the Higgins family living room. Her husband, Bob, had just left with Paul to go golfing. Mallory could hear Joyce in the kitchen, humming to herself as she got them each a cup of coffee.
The message in church that morning had been a sermon on extending onto others the good will embodied in the Holy Spirit. Mallory reflected on those ideas and twisted the blue fabric of her dress with her fingers. She had no reason to be nervous. Joyce was a fine woman. An excellent wife and mother. But something was off in this house. Was it the strange rock from last night? For some reason, that odd bit of mineral weighed on her mind and filled her dreams as she tossed and turned last night. Why did she care so much about holding it again?
"You're thinking about Sammy's rock." Joyce had reentered the living room. Her hips swaggered in her high-waisted pants. Her large breasts, which had been on display with a low-cut dress last night, were now mostly concealed in a loose blouse.
"No." Mallory wiped her palms on her dress and reached out for the mug of coffee. When was the last time she'd had sweaty palms? All because of brunch with a housewife? "Thank you for the coffee."
"Are you sure I can't interest you in some mimosas?" Joyce smiled and sat on the loveseat, facing the couch. She was a pretty woman with a warm, soothing charm.
Something about Joyce made Mallory want to give her a big hug. Mallory resisted. "Coffee is fine, thank you." Mallory crossed her legs and offered her own perfunctory smile. "Your children are very charming. What are they doing today?"
"Oh, Rebekah is off working on some sort of science project," Joyce said. "That's mostly what she does these days."
"She's at junior college?"
"Yes. She'll be transferring to a four-year school soon," Joyce held her head high, ever the proud parent. "She's always been good in school."
"And Sam?" For some reason, saying Sam's name made Mallory feel discombobulated and more than a little fuzzy. What was wrong with her today?
"He's had his struggles with school in the past. But he's doing better now. He just needed some motivation." Joyce set her mug down on the coffee table. "He's upstairs right now, studying hard."
"That's excellent." Mallory nodded. "And the rock?"
"Excuse me?" Joyce laughed, a light, airy sound, as if Mallory had just told a slightly vulgar joke.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." Mallory frowned and looked around the room. It was filled with tasteful, middle-class department store furnishings. "What I meant was. The stone? Or, I mean, can I ...? I'm sorry, I'm not feeling myself today."
"It's quite all right." Joyce reached into the front of her blouse with her right hand and pulled out from between her breasts the black stone with red veins. "Joyce Higgins, always at the ready." She reached the rock out to Mallory in the palm of her hand.
"I ..." Mallory's mouth hung open. She was not used to seeing women retrieve things from their brassieres. Time to get a grip. Mallory should not have come to brunch this morning. She snapped her mouth shut, put her mug down on the coffee table, and readied herself to leave. Instead, her hand reached out and plucked the rock from Joyce. "It's very pretty, isn't it?"
"Yes." Joyce clasped her hands in her lap. The rock was many things, none of them were pretty. "You can hold it for as long as you like."
"Thank you." Her gray-blue eyes reflected the pulsing red light as she stared. Her face, always so reserved, now even more still than usual. The small, silver cross around her neck also picked up a faint red hue from the rock.
Mallory lost track of time.
"You were Pre-Med, right?" Joyce broke the silence.
"What?" Mallory looked up. She'd forgotten about her host. "Yes."
"That's wonderful." Joyce stood and stepped over next to the couch. "I could use your opinion on something." She held out her hand to Mallory.
"I don't think I'm up for tutoring Sam today." Mallory reached out her left hand and felt Joyce's warm fingers close around hers.
"Don't worry, it's nothing like that." Joyce looked down at the trembling woman's hand. "What a pretty wedding ring. Is it vintage?"
"Yes. 1930s." Mallory felt herself being gently pulled to her feet.
"Well, Bob really outdid himself. It's beautiful." Joyce led Mallory out of the living room, toward the stairs.
"I helped him." Mallory still held tightly to the rock with her right hand.
"Of course you did, dear." Joyce lead them upstairs.
Mallory admired the housewife's round butt, shown to full advantage in those high-waisted pants. She blushed and looked away. The walls of the stairway were decorated with framed family pictures. The kids got older as they ascended. Mallory even spotted a picture of Paul and Joyce from their wedding. Joyce wore a gorgeous, white dress and a brilliant smile. Her curly brown hair, longer than now, cascaded around her shoulders.
"In here." Joyce knocked on a door. "Sammy, sweetie. Can we come in?"
"Yeah," a muffled voice called through the door.
Joyce opened the door and ushered them into the room.
Sam sat at his desk, still hunched over whatever he was working on. Mallory's gaze moved about the room. There was no mistaking a teenager's room. At eighteen, many girls were busy trying to surround themselves with adult things. But boys? In Mallory's experience, boys tried their best to never grow up. There were several posters tacked to the wall with space themes, one wizard cat, and one featuring a scantily clad elf lady. There were rocks on the shelves, mixed in with the comic books. There was, inexplicably, a stack of towels near his nightstand. And there was a curious, pungent, earthy odor. Not a bad smell, but very odd. Mallory sighed. At least he'd made his bed.
"Sammy?" Joyce squeezed Mallory's left hand and pulled her close.
"One sec, mom." Sam scribbled on the paper.
Mallory's grip tightened on the rock. A warmth had spread through her, without her realizing. Up her right arm and into her chest. The world still felt muddled, but she was more relaxed.
"Okay." Sam put down his pen and spun his chair to face them. He wore a t-shirt with a faded skull that said
Ordering Pizza with Skeletor
and some jeans. "Hi, Mrs. Stevens. How are you today?"