20 Questions
"If you were a dog, what kind would you be?" And the game was on.
"Well," Carey began to comment thoughtfully, "I always thought I'd be a lab, but I could also be a cocker spaniel. They say the dog you choose will often mirror some of your traits. I'm also a biter, on occasion."
"And that's what she said" Marcus couldn't help himself, and received a punch for it. "Ok ok ok, sorry...Actually, no I'm not. You should be apologizing to me cuz that bloody hurt." Marcus rubbed his arm looking at her like he'd been attacked by a bear.
"Please, I barely touched you. But I suppose that maybe you're not strong enough to handle me. Did you get beat up by girls a lot in school?" She stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'll have you know I was always pickin' up da ladies, ok. You got lucky. I didn't have to choose you but I did. Don't make me regret it, I didn't enter an abusive relationship knowingly." Marcus said in mock snobbery.
"Oh yeah cuz you can find a girl who can act and has had movie sex with Leonardo DiCaprio on every corner." She said with extreme sarcasm and a complimentary eye roll.
"I could, but do you think you'd be able to find a musician with a crooked nose and a belt buckle with ease?"
"I doubt it."
"Another eye roll, look at that sass pouring out of that usually sweet face. Is your kindness a façade to your brutality?"
"Yes." She smiled wickedly before leaving the room to return with a bottle of scotch. "This oughta make things more interesting."
"You want to get me sloppy drunk so I can spill all my secrets to you. You're a terrible wife." Marcus acknowledged.
"Yes I want to hear about your affair with your, what was it, stuffed...puma?" Carey laughed.
"Shhh woman, we do not speak of those times. I was young and ignorant." Marcus scolded as he poured two rounds of liquor into glasses.
"Ha, it's my turn. When you were a child, where was your favorite place to go to?" Carey asked sipping her beverage.
"I'd always loved to go to my grandfather's house. He lived on a small farm. James and I would go there for a few weeks during the summer. He had a barn that was 30 feet tall, so we made a swing that when you jumped off you'd land in a stack of hay. Playing tag was also shit loads of fun. He had a big open field so it felt like you could run for miles. It was a home away from home and sometimes I pretended I was in The Grapes of Wrath. It almost had that era aura to it. Man, I wish I could go back." Marcus reminisced. "That'll be my question to you I guess. Go on, I'd like to know all about my wife's childhood." Marcus already knew the answer but he loved seeing her smile as she recalled simpler times without a care in the world.
"My grandma's house. Definitely. Before she got sick, I was over there all the time. She was always so eager to see me too, I never felt like a burden. I love those people. Ones you know you can talk all you want and they don't get bored with your musings. I would stay the night often times and before we went to bed we would sit on her back porch. She would make me describe what I saw to her. She could see too, but she always wanted to see how I saw things. She said it made her younger, and I believed her. Then in the morning she would always get up before me, and she'd make french toast. Then she would braid my hair and we'd get ice-cream as she took me home." A soft smile had been sketched on her face as she remembered everything they'd done together. She looked up at Marcus who'd been hanging on her every word. "Let's see, what was your worst injury?"
Marcus reflected then answered a moment later, "Well there was one time I'd fallen out of a tractor and convinced myself I'd broken an ankle or something. It was fine although it did hurt like a bastard. But, I think the worst was when I was 14, John, me, and some of our friends thought in our teenage minds it was a great idea to see who could stand being in the cemetery the longest at two in the morning. Anyway, our brilliant plan was foiled when the workers came early to bury not one but four dead bodies. We made a hasty retreat over the fence. I was about to when my shoelace got caught. Some how I'd impaled my back with a small point on the fence. It left a huge tear and made a pretty nasty scar for a long time. It's pretty faded now but you can see it faintly." He raised his shirt and pointed to where he'd been stabbed by a fence post. Carey's fingers ran across it and she gasped.
"Marcus this is nearly four inches long! How did I never notice this?" Her voice carried both worry and confusion.
"Probably cuz it has to be pointed out at this point. Don't worry about it, Bug. It's all healed." He tugged his shirt down and grabbed her hand that was on his back and brought it to his lips. The night progressed with stupid questions until they were both drunk off their asses and honesty leaked through their liquored tongues.
"When did you know you were in love with me?" Carey slurred as the alcohol on her breath filled the air.
"I always thought that you were my love. When we wrote to each other as kids I always played with the idea that maybe I did love you. But then I grew up and thought that was childish. Apparently not though. When we met again I still got butterflies and thought you knew I thought I loved you when we were kids. I guess even then I was in love with you. I think that first time I knew was when you saw me having a small breakdown in my room. I didn't know you were there but you came into my room. Scared me half to death you did, but you sat down by me and gave your silent support. It was then I knew you were perfect and I loved you because you still cared about me even with my flaws. I didn't think anyone could or would even want to live with such a broken man. You proved me wrong. Twice. Thank you for it." Marcus said with earnestly evident in his voice.
Carey gently slurred out an "awe" all the while eyes locked in his. She was returned the same question and replied, "Erm, well, I think I thought the same as you, when we were kids and all. I can't believe how wonderfully everything worked out for us. But back to the topic at hand, I know it sounds weird but actually, it was the railroad tour thing you guys did. I remember you asked me to come along and I was really nervous about it; I don't know why. But, well, anyway, you completely took me under your wing. I wasn't sure how the boys would perceive me. Ben took a strong liking to me though. The only one I wasn't sure about was Ted. I remember on that tour you and him got into a little argument about me actually,"
"Oh yeah I remember that. He didn't think you should be on tour because you didn't know all of us and you weren't a musician and a bunch of shit like that." Marcus piped up.
"Yeah and anyway, Ben took me to another room and told me several things. He told me how after we met again he'd seen an incredible change in you. He said even when you thought you were in love with uhm, Laura, you were never as happy. He said he'd seen life brought back into your eyes. He said they'd been dull for a long time. And then you found us and you grabbed me, kinda roughly, I thought you were gunna throw me off the train. But instead you took me to your room and kissed me. Really kissed me, and you told me that if anyone gave me any crap then I'd tell you. You made me promise it. That's when I knew I loved you." Carey looked sheepishly at Marcus trying to read his face.
"That still stands you know, telling me. I love you so much, Noodle, I'll be the first to take anyone who hurts you out." Marcus reached out his hand to cup her cheek, telling her silently that he would be there as long as she needed him. He drew their faces closer together and confirmed his mute promise by pressing his lips to her soft ones.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her. Every time she got butterflies and she kept her lips locked on his as she weaved her fingers through his dark hair. Unwillingly pulling apart, Carey gazed into his eyes as his searched her face, eventually landing on her lips. He brought her in again, this one was chaste, but still sent a message of trust.
"Well I think we know nearly everything about each other now huh?" Marcus chuckled his voice low and soft.
Carey nodded gracefully before getting up and walking, correction, staggering to their room. She beckoned for him to come along but had fallen onto their bed asleep before Marcus could make it. Upon entering the room he laughed and rolled his eyes at his lump of a wife strewn across the bed. Quickly pulling down the sheets to lay her in bed he decided to take in this image. Here he was, not even thirty, with a stunning wife and a house. Hell, he didn't think it was possible. The house thing wouldn't have been too hard to make happen, but he didn't think it would till he was at least 35. He never imagined he'd be so lucky as to have Carey though. She was the most perfect thing on the planet.
"Well I must have done something right." Marcus looked up in his 'prayer'. He sat on his side of the bed before pulling his wife into the bed. This took little effort because of how small she was, in fact, it was harder to get the sheets and quilt over them both. Marcus snuck his hand up the loose shirt that made her look so small on her acute frame. He slid his hands across her smooth skin and traced her hips and settled for the night with his hand run over her stomach.
