Home is where most say the heart is. Wanting to end his day, a man’s work is never done; Michael drove to de Passo’s Italian and Soul Cuisine and picked up his large order for eight.
“Thanks Crystal. Tell John I said to call me.” He stated, retrieving his AMEX card and receipt.
“Will do Mr. Michael. Is the party still on for next Saturday?” Crystal inquired, her eyes sparkle with hopefulness.
“Yes, definitely! Now, don’t lie and say you have to work, because I know you’re off.” Michael laughs loudly.
“I won’t.” Crystal took a waiting customer’s order, and Michael told her he would hold her to it.
After dinner, Michael sat in his office chair re-reading the revision of the proposal for the Dressel building. In the midst of taxing concentration, Cynthia snuck up on him, massaging his shoulders.
“Rough day, huh?” She asked, kneading deeper into his aching muscles. The quick shower he took before running to eat dinner with his family, didn’t help much.
“Oh, yeah. I don’t want to talk about work right now. Exhausted from that still. Where are the children?” Michael got up to lay back on the ivory chaise bought from Ontario by his mother, and briefly closed his eyes.
“Hmm. Everyone is everywhere; either doing homework, learning their dance steps for ballet recital, or something.” Cynthia disrobed. She pressed a button on a remote control, and soft jazz permeated the room.
Michael still has his eyes closed, feeling fatigue eating away at him. He can slightly feel the movements his wife made, and succumb to her skillfulness.
“Just relax, baby, while I massage you everywhere,” Cynthia breathes the last word out, grabbing the almond oil.
“Okay,” Michael stayed on his back, more so since he didn’t have enough energy to turn over.
Cynthia resumes her massage, paying close attention to any areas that bought on pain or delight; from him working so hard. Another side of Michael working diligently, he works even harder to stay healthy and keeping his body in impeccable shape.
Cynthia always maintained her wifely duties on the daily but lately, she’s been slacking. And with Michael being such a wonderful husband and father, she can’t dream of ever screwing up; not with the many women vying for her position.
She absentmindedly mounted her husband, stopping to study his handsome, angular face. She traced a wet line from his ear to his slightly pointed chin. Michael have always been attractive, at times she feels like his face is prettier than hers. Time changed them; his for the better and hers for the worse. Life had really taken its toll.
Michael moans in response to the finger-walking acts that Cynthia made up and down his arms and hairless chest. It was moments like these that made her appreciate what she has; especially when she tries to put forth an effort in all that she does.
“Go lower, ba,” Michael instructed, Cynthia went to take hold of-
“MOMMY! DADDY!” “Daddy, tell Xavier to stay out of my way,” goes two of the thirteen children who dared to barge their way in yelling at the top of their lungs. What the hell happened to the door being locked? Michael thought as his eyes flew open in shocked.
“Hey! Hey! Y’all do not come through this door when its closed!” Cynthia shouted over their quarreling. She quickly threw on her red silk robe while Michael lay back casually like he didn’t have a care in the world. Cynthia fumed.
“But Mom, X knows not to bother me while I’m rehearsing for my recitals. I have only two-” Destiny whined.
“Don’t but Mom me. You are older than he is, Destiny. You know better than to come barging your way in here yelling!” Cynthia fussed, cutting her daughter off.
“But Xavier interrupted an important part though.”
“Des, like your mother said, you are older than he is. He’s only twelve and with you being seventeen, you have been taught how to handle a situation as this. Xavier, time again I preached to you about leaving your sister be when she’s going over her recitals.
Now I know how much you love your sister and seeing her dance, but give her some space to rehearse. Okay? You’ll see the final at the recital. Now kiss and make up,” Michael watches as they did so and smiles.
Once the children said apologies to each other and to their parents, they left the room talking about ice cream. Michael’s grin was slapped off his face when he turned to see Cynthia with her arms folded. Her eyes was glaring with anger. Before a word could escape his mouth, Cynthia bellowed,
“Why the hell didn’t you locked the damn door? You know how they are!”
Michael was taken aback, but not so much of what came next that nearly drove him to tears…
Thank you for reading and showing support for the Michael J series. It really means a lot. I’m not sure what Michael and his family have in store for us next week, so stay tune to find out!
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Pamela E. Hester ©2016