Chapter 361: Patty XLI—Unexpected and Amused
Patrick tried snuggling into Michele, tried hugging her from behind but she kept pushing him away, making angry annoyed noises and pushing him again. She didn’t say anything either, so he knew that something more than the usual bugged her. Well what had he done now? He couldn’t think of anything, he hadn’t even really interacted with her all day, which is why he wanted some physical contact right now!
He crossed his arms and he watched her as she slid into bed and clicked off the light. Maybe the kids were too much for her today? He remembered vaguely hearing them screaming in the backyard, and hearing something about a fight in the kitchen, and he had woken from a nap earlier that day only to find Mitchell clinging to him like a koala baby. The kids weren’t too much trouble at dinner, they ate and played hockey downstairs, but he didn’t think it would be anything to put her in a mood.
“What is it?” he whispered rolling over to her and pinning her hands down gently onto the mattress before kissing her. She smelled spicy and sweet and he kissed her throat but she didn’t respond. He felt her legs shift so that they were closed under him and when he tried to maneuver his knee in between them he got hers in his stomach, pressing and rolling him off her. “What did I do?”
She rolled away from him and he frowned, now feeling a little worried. He touched her shoulder and she sighed. “Patrick…”
“Yes?”
“Jennifer’s pregnant.”
Patrick almost laughed. “What?” He imagined what a baby would look like, if it would have any similarity to him next to its siblings. Would Adam notice the difference?
“She’s pregnant, four weeks gone… Patrick I wouldn’t be able to take it if, Patrick for the love of God tell me you always used some sort of protection with her.” Her voice sounded deep and immensely pained, hurt, betrayed, and beaten.
“Is she keeping it?” he asked, feeling curious.
“Of course she’s keeping it!” Michele snapped. “Of course she would, she wouldn’t have told everyone if she wasn’t. She’d keep it just to spite me too I’m sure if she had the slightest idea it could be yours!” She rolled over and he could feel her glare even though he couldn’t see it. “And you do sound interested in this don’t you?”
“Well it’s not every day finding out one of your own flesh and blood will inherit in your best friend’s family….” Patrick felt deliciously evil and taunting.
“Oh you SHIT!” Michele snarled and she sat up and slapped him hard, and proceeded to pound on his chest and that hurt too, all the passion in her frail body was directed hurtfully onto his own and Patrick gasped and pushed her off him and held her down. He could feel her trembling with heat and sweat and anger. “I’m the one who bears your children!” And he heard he voice tremble and collapse, tears falling now. “I’m the one, that’s MY privilege and not to any other whore or slut you touch, how DARE you take that away from me you shit! I will KILL her and that god damn baby I swear to you unless you…”
Patrick kissed her forehead, “It’s not mine,” Patrick said, “It’s not mine, Mimi, rest now, it’s not mine okay? Calm down.” He stroked her damp cheeks and kissed her again, feeling her breathing slow down but not her pulse. He rested his fingers over her throat. “Of course I was careful with her, I didn’t slip up, I used protection, now calm down, don’t worry. It’s Adam’s baby I was only making a joke, yes? A bad one and I apologize. Don’t take it this seriously. My children live under this roof and there will never be any others, yes?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her close to his body.
“I would die, Patrick,” she whispered. “I would die.”
“You won’t have to. Now go to sleep before you worry yourself again.”
She did fall asleep rather quickly but Patrick couldn’t, he rested his hands underneath his head thinking of Jennifer’s overeager kisses and touch. He tried closing his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come, he felt a little excited, a little curious, and his pulse wouldn’t slow down. He didn’t particularly like Jennifer, but, well he hadn’t been as careful with her as Michele would like to think, and the resulting possibility made him suddenly feel a little more affectionate to Adam’s brittle wife.
He woke up very early in the morning before sunrise with Michele’s mouth on his belly, her hands on his thighs and he closed his eyes in bliss and let her do everything on top of him. Her determination and aggression didn’t surprise him, after all she was his wife and he supposed she had a right to declare her ownership over him, at least to herself. Would she like another baby, he wondered, he had to admit it; he did miss the sound of a baby in the house, diapers and toddlers, and laughs and eyes that light up with wonder at seeing something for the first time. Children grew too fast, far too fast.
Patrick’s stomach grumbled angrily when he woke up again to the smells of bacon fat frying, sickly sweet syrupy maple sausages, salty frying ham, and the pungent smells of eggs gurgling in olive oil, and the powdery sweetness of pancakes and heated syrup. He narrowed his eyes in irritation and his stomach churned again. Didn’t she know it was a game day? This would stick with him all day, his sensitive stomach burning with fear at the thought of those smells in his nostrils.
He could never digest anything like he used to as a youngster and smells alone could give him heartburn that would last for hours. Michele knew this, besides he didn’t want the children getting into unhealthy breakfast habits. Of course she was telling him again, that she owned him, and did as she saw fit. Well, just for today, he supposed he could tolerate it, if it made her feel better about the whole situation; in fact it amused him. But did she have to pick a game day against the Red Wings to do this?
He stretched and yawned and found his t-shirt and boxer shorts on the floor, put them on as well as his slippers. He yawned again as he left the bedroom and went downstairs, he could hear the children giggling and laughing. Of course they were excited about breakfast; Michele had told him before that they were always beyond exuberant when they smelled “real” food being prepared for the morning. Oh God the smells were even stronger and more of an assault as he entered the kitchen.
“Good morning grumpy Daddy!” Jana giggled. She and Elena sat together at the kitchen table they had crayons, markers and paper and he noticed that Jana’s fingers seemed to be pink stained and glitter sprinkled. “Want me to draw you a good morning picture?”
“No,” Patrick replied but he smiled at her, she could do no wrong. But Michele! He looked at her and delivered a glance that spoke to her his thoughts.
Michele smiled. “You know where the cereal is,” she replied.
“Sorry about breakfast, Dad,” Freddy said diplomatically, “But we have a guest here! And, well, is it really that bad? Please don’t let it be that bad!”
Patrick squinted at Elena, the girl looked back at him with an upturned chin and narrowed her eyes right back. “It’s not that bad,” he said, “Where’s your brother? Get him to the table. Go on, all of you.” And he barked the last part wondering how Elena would react. Jana and Freddy dutifully scattered, knocking over a chair as they did so. Elena merely rose slowly, picked up the overturned chair and then looked back at him before leaving the kitchen.
“Now what was that all about?” Michele asked.
“What’s this all about?” he asked gesturing at the stove.
Michele
smiled. “
Patrick didn’t answer her because he didn’t exactly know what to say. Instead he began to clear the table of markers and crayons as a peace offering, clattering them into the plastic bin they were stored in and then he stacked all the papers and drawings into a neat pile on top of it. Michele continued at the stove, not acknowledging him as he opened the cupboard and pulled out the breakfast dishes, and set the table. After he took out the milk and juice and set them on the table, then she thanked him.
“It’s going to be fine,” he said and he pulled her to him and kissed her. “Stop worrying.”
“I know,” she said quietly and she patted his arm.
Patrick’s felt his stomach jolt and Michele jumped when they heard Jonathan scream at the top of his lungs. They couldn’t understand exactly what he said but his scream sounded like one of rage rather than fear. He exchanged looks with Michele and they dashed out of the kitchen and stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“I swear!” They heard Elena cry out in a mixture of amusement and fear. “I swear it wasn’t my idea Jonathan!”
“OH WE ARE SO OVER!” Jonathan howled. “OVER!”
“Goodness,” Michele whispered.
“Oh that’s fine,” Elena snapped, “because I always thought Freddy was cuter anyway.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. How old exactly did kids think they were anyway?
“Hot damn!” Freddy exclaimed.
“Oh WE ARE SO BACK TOGETHER!” Jonathan roared without missing a beat.
“That’s sensible,” Elena scoffed.
“Aw God dammit son of a bitch bastard ASSHOLE,” Freddy ranted in a frustrated tone and they could hear him stomping away, “CHRIST!”
“No more locker room for those boys,” Michele snapped.
Patrick dashed up the stairs and he found the kids red faced and cross armed in the hallway. “God dammit!” Jana peeped happily and Patrick didn’t hesitate in cuffing her over the back of her head causing the little girl to shriek and run downstairs to her mother.
“Now stop cursing,” Patrick began but he lost his wind when he took one look at Jonathan’s colorful face and hair and he remembered the pink sparkle stains on Jana’s fingers. He felt his throat tighten and his chest lighten and he looked at Elena because if he looked at Jonathan again he knew he would die laughing. The girl’s pretty dark eyes sparkled with devilish glee and she shrugged. “Hey last one up gets the cream, that’s how it is, it ain’t pretty but its nature.”
“Yeah that sounds like kids,” Katrina said and Patrick actually heard some light and soft amusement in her voice. Even as a little girl he didn’t suppose she had many of those moments. “Torture the last one awake, I had a couple summer camps like that. And know what, I never learned a thing, I still sleep in every morning.”
Patrick grinned and lifted his head a little off the massage table. Her fingers were digging into his lower back and then smoothing over it in a mixture of pain and comfort. She would breathe in slowly and loudly and deeply and then blow out as she dug into him. This woman knew how to do it right, and seemed to have more of a touch than some of the men who had been doing sports massage for years.
“You’re exquisite,” Patrick moaned and his eyes flashed with what had to be the most delicious pain in the world as she leaned into his back and released a kink that he thought would never loosen. “I don’t pay you enough.”
“No one ever does,” Katrina whispered and she proceeded to move into his shoulders, pressing down with her palms. “The flowers were nice but not necessary, I get your point.”
Patrick laughed. “And the wine?”
“I won’t complain,” Katrina replied. “But I will object.”
Patrick lifted his eyebrows with amusement. Michele had told him about Katrina and Lacroix, and that had really surprised him. He knew how much some of the players in the locker room had been after her especially as she had no obvious evidence of a boyfriend, and the fact that Lacroix had her… well… “You’re a tough one aren’t you?”
Katrina laughed mirthlessly. “You’re married anyway you hound.”
“Even as a girl you were sullen,” Patrick said quietly and he felt her hands stop and she sighed.
“You remember me?”
“Sure.”
Katrina dug back into his shoulders. “Well I don’t remember you, hunchback.”
“Ow!” Patrick gasped. “What do you remember?”
“Your wife,” Katrina replied. “I remember her, that’s about it, and Dad’s voice and his shoes, not even what he looks like.”
Katrina lightened up on him when his shoulder relaxed and he groaned happily. “It’s been a tough life for you yes?”
“Flip over,” Katrina replied and she lifted the sheet allowing him to turn.
Patrick looked at her with sleepy eyes. She had lines around her mouth; he could see that, the vaguest lines around her mouth stress and worry.
“I’ve dealt with it,” she said and she brushed her hair behind her ear. “People have had worse.”
“You’ve never had real love I suppose,” Patrick said a little wistfully. For a moment his mind had drifted and he thought of Jennifer, no not of her really but of the possibility inside her. Michele might not like it, but Patrick had to admit, he really enjoyed the idea, it made him feel a nostalgic sense of purpose he hadn’t known in a long while. He wondered when the baby would be born, what would it look like, and would it be instantly obvious?
Katrina wrinkled her pretty, pointed little nose. It was a little smaller than Cecile’s. “Love? I don’t have a need for it. It does nothing for me.”
Patrick lifted his eyebrows. “Sex then? You just like good looking men eh?”
Katrina smiled with nice teeth, soft pink lips; he could tell it was worth it to make her smile. She could have any man she wanted with that frosty beauty promising a sunrise smile. “Sex gets in the way and so do looks; I don’t look for that either, doesn’t turn me on.”
“Then what turns you on my dear?”
Then the smile looked vicious and cutting and she narrowed those kitty cat eyes. “Money,” she said. “That’s what turns me on.”
“So I would have to spend it on you to impress you?” Patrick asked more out of curiosity than anything. A real courtesan, he felt a little in awe suddenly, as if she were something magical. This woman was a dying breed, expensive and draining and completely breathtaking.
Katrina lifted her eyebrow. “Oh I don’t know if it would impress me per se, because I know you have a lot and other men have more and could do the same for me. What would impress me is…”
“What?” Patrick grinned.
“I don’t know, spend a shitload of cash on a completely needless thing and just flaunt it, in my honor. That might do it, get a Hummer or something,” she laughed. “Get a useless hunk of junk like that and maybe then we could negotiate.”
Patrick laughed. “Point taken.”