SkyGirl5
Cadet
sorry for the delay guys we were opening our pool this morning andi had to help bc the pool people showed up early
Chapter 6
“Hey honey,” Sydney greeted her husband with a hug and a kiss when he arrived home the following evening, “how was the science fair?”
“Great! Abby’s project won second place,” Peter told her with a smile. “How was your evening alone? Enjoy your bath?”
“Oh I didn’t take it; I went over to Michael’s to help him unpack,” she said. Then she had to restrain herself from gasping and clapping her hand over her mouth in horror at what she had just admitted. Quickly, she tried to revise her comment before Peter’s expression grew any more dangerous. “Well, um, see Michael called looking for you because he wanted help and then I offered to help so I went over and helped him unpack his clothes and CDs and stuff,” she explained.
“So… it was just you and him in his apartment?” Peter questioned, folding his arms over his chest.
“Oh my god – it was! I must have forgotten about the law that prohibits women and men to be alone together!” she said in a horrified tone, obviously mocking him.
“Sydney this isn’t funny,” Peter snapped.
“Jeez what’s the big deal? I just went over to help my friend unpack some stuff – is that a crime?” she asked as she walked away and into the kitchen, hoping to relieve some tension by creating some distance between them.
“No, of course not, but that ‘friend,’” peter said with air quotes, “happens to be Michael.”
“You’re not turning into a jealous, untrustworthy husband, are you Peter?” Sydney questioned in a dangerous tone.
Peter softened his hard look. “No… of course I trust you. I trust you completely. I don’t trust him…”
“What does that even mean?! What do you think, he’s going to rape me or something? That doesn’t make any sense, Peter. Michael wouldn’t do that and even if he did make a pass at me or something – which I don’t think he would – but even if he did I’m perfectly capable of saying, ‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I’m married.’ Don’t you think so?” she asked.
“Of course,” Peter mumbled.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Peter sighed. “Nothing, okay? Nothing it’s just…you get along better with Michael than you do with me...,” he admitted quietly.
“What?!” Sydney laughed. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. Peter gave her a look. “Okay…so Michael and I get along – that makes him my friend and he’s your friend too, which is a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Well…yeah…”
“Peter,” Sydney said softly as she walked over and put her arms around him. “I love you, remember? Just because Michael is my friend and I like him as a friend doesn’t mean I want to jump him, okay? So please, please stop freaking out about this, alright?”
“Alright,” Peter agreed before kissing her gently. “Oh you know what we should do after school’s out next week? Go away for a weekend…relax…maybe do some last minute shopping?”
A smile spread across Sydney’s face. “Sounds good to me.”
~*~
The weekend following Sydney’s assistance with Michael’s unpacking, she and Peter went on their two-night getaway that turned out to be very nice and exactly what they needed. The week following that since they were both going to be home Sydney and Peter planned on painting their kitchen. They only finished one wall when Peter announced that if he had to smell any more paint fumes he was going to be sick, which left Sydney with the task of finishing the painting job while he went someplace else to escape the fumes. Though this annoyed her slightly, she had no choice; she could not force him to be ill nor could she live with a half painted kitchen.
After another twenty minutes of boring painting, Sydney heard the apartment doorbell ring. Thinking it was Peter and he had forgotten his key, Sydney set her paint brush down over the paint can and went to open the door. Instead of Peter, though, she found Michael. “Hey…shouldn’t you be working?” she asked.
“Lunch break,” he said simply. Then, after sniffing the air he added, “Are you painting?”
“Yes,” she groaned, “alone too. Peter left.”
“He left you? Bastard. Was it for another woman? A man?!” Michael asked, though an amused grin was cracking through his serious expression.
Sydney rolled her eyes. “No, retard. The paint fumes were making him sick…”
“Pansy,” Michael muttered. “Need help?”
“Well that would be nice but I don’t want you to get your nice clothes painty,” Sydney said with a scrunched up nose.
“Need company then?” he offered.
“Sure, but I wouldn’t want you to get a headache too,” she winked.
“Psh,” Michael gave a flippant noise, “like I’d get a headache from paint fumes. I might get a little high but…”
Sydney laughed. “Oh yeah that’s just what we need – you going back to work high as a kite.”
“Hey it’d make work more interesting…speaking of, though – did Peter ever tell you about the time we all tried pot in college?” Michael asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.
“What?! No! What happened?” Sydney asked.
“Peter started coughing so hard we thought we were gonna have to take him to the ER,” Michael laughed. Sydney laughed slightly too, completely able to envision that in her mind. “It didn’t really do much to us though… then again, we didn’t smoke all that much either.”
“Good to know,” Sydney commented before turning back to her painting.
“What about you? Were you a goodie two shoes or a rebel?” he asked.
Sydney smiled over her shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Hmm,” Michael paused to ponder. “I think you were a closet rebel, wishing you could do stuff like get piss drunk and smoke lots of pot but too afraid to put those wishes into action.”
“Well you’re half right,” Sydney told him. “While I never had desires to smoke pot or do any other sort of illegal narcotics I did wish I was a bit more comfortable in the partying scene. I’m not a good drunk, though – I’m a depressing one. I get all quiet and shy…it’s bad.”
“Oh that sucks. Peter’s a bad drunk too…but only ‘cause he can’t hold his liquor and ends up puking everywhere.”
“Sadly I know,” Sydney said with a sigh recalling her husband’s bachelor party which, thankfully, was a few nights before their wedding instead of the night before.
Sydney and Michael chatted for another half an hour before he left, needing to get back to work. Once he was gone, Sydney finished the kitchen painting quickly and made sure to open all the windows and turn on three fans while she took a shower. Of course, this made the apartment practically glacial, but it removed most of the unpleasant paint odor so by the time Peter arrived home he was no longer nauseous.
“Looks great honey. Thanks,” he said, kissing her gently.
“Sure it was fine…fun actually,” she said with a soft smile recalling her conversation with Michael.
“Great. Want to collect your back massage now?” he asked with a grin. Sydney nodded vigorously; she never turned down a back massage.
Chapter 6
“Hey honey,” Sydney greeted her husband with a hug and a kiss when he arrived home the following evening, “how was the science fair?”
“Great! Abby’s project won second place,” Peter told her with a smile. “How was your evening alone? Enjoy your bath?”
“Oh I didn’t take it; I went over to Michael’s to help him unpack,” she said. Then she had to restrain herself from gasping and clapping her hand over her mouth in horror at what she had just admitted. Quickly, she tried to revise her comment before Peter’s expression grew any more dangerous. “Well, um, see Michael called looking for you because he wanted help and then I offered to help so I went over and helped him unpack his clothes and CDs and stuff,” she explained.
“So… it was just you and him in his apartment?” Peter questioned, folding his arms over his chest.
“Oh my god – it was! I must have forgotten about the law that prohibits women and men to be alone together!” she said in a horrified tone, obviously mocking him.
“Sydney this isn’t funny,” Peter snapped.
“Jeez what’s the big deal? I just went over to help my friend unpack some stuff – is that a crime?” she asked as she walked away and into the kitchen, hoping to relieve some tension by creating some distance between them.
“No, of course not, but that ‘friend,’” peter said with air quotes, “happens to be Michael.”
“You’re not turning into a jealous, untrustworthy husband, are you Peter?” Sydney questioned in a dangerous tone.
Peter softened his hard look. “No… of course I trust you. I trust you completely. I don’t trust him…”
“What does that even mean?! What do you think, he’s going to rape me or something? That doesn’t make any sense, Peter. Michael wouldn’t do that and even if he did make a pass at me or something – which I don’t think he would – but even if he did I’m perfectly capable of saying, ‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I’m married.’ Don’t you think so?” she asked.
“Of course,” Peter mumbled.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Peter sighed. “Nothing, okay? Nothing it’s just…you get along better with Michael than you do with me...,” he admitted quietly.
“What?!” Sydney laughed. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. Peter gave her a look. “Okay…so Michael and I get along – that makes him my friend and he’s your friend too, which is a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Well…yeah…”
“Peter,” Sydney said softly as she walked over and put her arms around him. “I love you, remember? Just because Michael is my friend and I like him as a friend doesn’t mean I want to jump him, okay? So please, please stop freaking out about this, alright?”
“Alright,” Peter agreed before kissing her gently. “Oh you know what we should do after school’s out next week? Go away for a weekend…relax…maybe do some last minute shopping?”
A smile spread across Sydney’s face. “Sounds good to me.”
~*~
The weekend following Sydney’s assistance with Michael’s unpacking, she and Peter went on their two-night getaway that turned out to be very nice and exactly what they needed. The week following that since they were both going to be home Sydney and Peter planned on painting their kitchen. They only finished one wall when Peter announced that if he had to smell any more paint fumes he was going to be sick, which left Sydney with the task of finishing the painting job while he went someplace else to escape the fumes. Though this annoyed her slightly, she had no choice; she could not force him to be ill nor could she live with a half painted kitchen.
After another twenty minutes of boring painting, Sydney heard the apartment doorbell ring. Thinking it was Peter and he had forgotten his key, Sydney set her paint brush down over the paint can and went to open the door. Instead of Peter, though, she found Michael. “Hey…shouldn’t you be working?” she asked.
“Lunch break,” he said simply. Then, after sniffing the air he added, “Are you painting?”
“Yes,” she groaned, “alone too. Peter left.”
“He left you? Bastard. Was it for another woman? A man?!” Michael asked, though an amused grin was cracking through his serious expression.
Sydney rolled her eyes. “No, retard. The paint fumes were making him sick…”
“Pansy,” Michael muttered. “Need help?”
“Well that would be nice but I don’t want you to get your nice clothes painty,” Sydney said with a scrunched up nose.
“Need company then?” he offered.
“Sure, but I wouldn’t want you to get a headache too,” she winked.
“Psh,” Michael gave a flippant noise, “like I’d get a headache from paint fumes. I might get a little high but…”
Sydney laughed. “Oh yeah that’s just what we need – you going back to work high as a kite.”
“Hey it’d make work more interesting…speaking of, though – did Peter ever tell you about the time we all tried pot in college?” Michael asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.
“What?! No! What happened?” Sydney asked.
“Peter started coughing so hard we thought we were gonna have to take him to the ER,” Michael laughed. Sydney laughed slightly too, completely able to envision that in her mind. “It didn’t really do much to us though… then again, we didn’t smoke all that much either.”
“Good to know,” Sydney commented before turning back to her painting.
“What about you? Were you a goodie two shoes or a rebel?” he asked.
Sydney smiled over her shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Hmm,” Michael paused to ponder. “I think you were a closet rebel, wishing you could do stuff like get piss drunk and smoke lots of pot but too afraid to put those wishes into action.”
“Well you’re half right,” Sydney told him. “While I never had desires to smoke pot or do any other sort of illegal narcotics I did wish I was a bit more comfortable in the partying scene. I’m not a good drunk, though – I’m a depressing one. I get all quiet and shy…it’s bad.”
“Oh that sucks. Peter’s a bad drunk too…but only ‘cause he can’t hold his liquor and ends up puking everywhere.”
“Sadly I know,” Sydney said with a sigh recalling her husband’s bachelor party which, thankfully, was a few nights before their wedding instead of the night before.
Sydney and Michael chatted for another half an hour before he left, needing to get back to work. Once he was gone, Sydney finished the kitchen painting quickly and made sure to open all the windows and turn on three fans while she took a shower. Of course, this made the apartment practically glacial, but it removed most of the unpleasant paint odor so by the time Peter arrived home he was no longer nauseous.
“Looks great honey. Thanks,” he said, kissing her gently.
“Sure it was fine…fun actually,” she said with a soft smile recalling her conversation with Michael.
“Great. Want to collect your back massage now?” he asked with a grin. Sydney nodded vigorously; she never turned down a back massage.
