Is a Dream Just a Dream?

Secrets

***Mild Sexual content ahead***

"You three have to promise to keep this strictly between us. Your mother and her leech...er lawyer will use me getting engaged as ammunition in court" Bryce, Will and Derrick busily scurry around the kitchen as we prepare breakfast. Stevie is still in bed, it's only 9:30, and I want to make sure my bases are covered as far as Kristen is concerned. She'd love nothing more than to use Stevie as a means of getting more money out of me, and to keep the boys away from us. "Derrick don't stir the eggs to much you'll make em like rubber" Bryce waves a spatula at his twin and Derrick rolls his eyes ceasing his over mixing of the eggs.

"Can I at least tell Melanie?" I hand over a cup of chopped veggies and some cubed ham for omelets. "No you can't tell Melanie, this is between us got it?" Bryce sighs nodding as he greases the pan pouring the egg mixture in. "I Don't see the problem, she's got Dylan prancing around our house in his jockeys night and day" I resist the urge to do a total body cringe at the image of Dylan prancing in jockeys. Some things should never be visualized.

We pinkie swear on it, that's our way of sealing a pact, and they help me load up a breakfast tray for me and Stevie transporting our meal and an urn of fresh coffee up the stairs. I smile at the undefined lump of covers in the middle of our bed. Stevie's never been a morning person in all the time I've known her she shuns meetings that require her presence before noon and prefers them to be later if at all possible. As a waitress she had to be up by five o'clock six days a week and the seventh day she cleaned houses which meant she had to be up by seven.

So many years of long shift work and odd hours took their toll, and since she's a bona fide woman of leisure now she can pick and choose when she wants to get out of bed. Hence her one a.m bed time and her eleven a.m. wake up. "Sweetheart I've got breakfast". I hear a moan and a rustle of covers but she doesn't budge. Smiling I lift the top comforter off of her ad she slams her eyes shut tightly against the daylight.

"Time is it?" I check my watch "Ten fifteen" she grumbles a few curse words and rolls over "Coffee" kissing her shoulder I hobble over to the night stand fixing us both a cup of coffee. Hers is cream and sugar to the point of almost not being coffee any longer. Mine is a little of both. Stevie buys the good stuff, always has. Even in our rundown flat in San Francisco I could count on good coffee in the pantry when I woke up.

Nuzzling her neck gently my lips kiss over her soft skin, she rolls back over sitting up. Yawning she ruffles her long blonde hair reminding me so much of the fresh faced girl she was when we met nearly fifty years ago. "coffee" she smiles taking her mug in both hands. With a sigh she sips at her beverage her eyes closing in bliss at the taste "Perfect". For that I earn a peck on the cheek and I give her one in return.

"Breakfast?" she eyes the tray across the room and I grab my cane limping over to bring our food to bed. She sets the meal over her legs beckoning to me "Clothes off, bed" I smirk stripping. This early she's also a lot less articulate, but there's something about the direct nature of our conversations that I find irresistible. She's always had a gift for creating grand phraseology an elaborate descriptions for simplistic concepts.

Dreams=Go fuck yourself Lindsey.

Storms=Don't act like I'm different than the person you fell in love with Lindsey.

Sister's of the Moon=is it possible to be famous and have real friends?

Stand Back=Stand Back

Breakfast is a casual affair the two of us lightly teasing as we steal bites from each others forks. Her conversational ability improves drastically after she's finished her coffee and we work on a crossword puzzle together, the time ticking by slowly. Neither of us is particularly bothered with the passage of time, we've got nowhere to be today no appointments, and the boys are busy killing and maiming strangers across the ocean on Call of Duty so they're sufficiently distracted.