1989: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature rea...
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December 1992
The car ride back to Manhattan from Brooklyn felt unusually tense to Alma. Even holding Bill's hand in hers she could feel that he wasn't fully holding hers back and instead of pretending to be oblivious to his coldness, she let go leaving it on her lap. Before she slightly turned to look out her passenger seat window she saw him cut eyes at her. All she could do was take a deep breath.
She was slowly becoming annoyed the longer they were in the car. Leave it to Bill to become moody after they had such a wonderful day together. Almost as if he couldn't accept anything good despite how much he enjoyed it. Finally, once they parked Alma tried to quickly exit to grab Echo from the car seat before Bill could but he beat her to it. She didn't know why she reacted that way exactly, she knew he wouldn't do anything to her even if he was bothered by her. Until she realized she just felt like being a bitch to him. She hadn't done anything wrong, she hadn't said anything wrong all day either. So she was trying to give him a reason to actually be upset.
"Just grab the leftovers," Bill said passively, noticing her still standing there by the curb.
Once they got inside their home, they behaved somewhat robotically. Bill impatiently motioned her to step in and she went to the kitchen to put the food away while he continued heading towards the hallway to Echo's room. Alma decided to take the spiral stairs, immediately dropping her coat on the loveseat and stepping out of her heels and dress, leaving them there on the floor. In Echo's room, Bill stood there with one arm across his chest propping up his other as he bit at his thumb trying to settle himself before having to be alone with his girlfriend. He knew the ugly feelings he was having were somewhat irrational. However, he couldn't deny that in some capacity he and Alma had been playing nice during her whole visit. Though they loved each other's company there was still ice between them that they hadn't quite resolved but they put it aside for their daughters' sake. He took one last look at his daughter peacefully asleep in her crib, he wanted her just like that forever if he could.
He exhaled loudly before entering their room from the back staircase and clear across he could see Alma washing her face in the bathroom sink. She was in just panties and one of his old ratty black t-shirts now. He walked into his closet to dress completely out of his clothes and undergarments to put on dark gray thermal pants and a loose sweatshirt. When he emerged, Alma was sitting up in bed and he never took a glance at her. Instead, he just absentmindedly adjusted himself in his thermals and went directly to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He hadn't even bothered to notice her dress just thrown on the floor without a care either. She probably should have thrown the coat on the floor too. Maybe that would have gotten a reaction out of him, it cost thousands of more dollars than the dress. She could feel the tension between them building in the room and so was her irritation.
She was biting her bottom lip as he nonchalantly walked around and started flipping the lights off and then went to his side of the bed looking rather bored even. He sat on the edge for a second putting on long white socks. So suddenly he wanted to dress like a nun for bed? Alma thought to herself. He slipped under the covers, tucking himself in with his back towards her.
