Yellow (M/L ADULT): NEW CHAPTER! Ch. 21 3/24/21

Fics using the characters from Roswell, but where the plot does not have anything to do with aliens, nor are any of the characters "not of this Earth."

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ChemChic
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 57
Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 6:59 pm
Location: There's really somewhere else I'd rather be...

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 15 8/4/20

Post by ChemChic »

Hi guys! Thanks for the feedback! I had 5 minutes, so I thought I'd throw this up quickly! Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I cannot believe my best friend is an engaged woman!” Maria exclaimed dramatically, enveloping me in a bear hug. “It feels like your first wedding was just yesterday, Petunia!” She teased and then hugged me again.

“Oof, Maria! Baby on board!” I scolded her as she squished Gabriel between us.

“Right, right! Sorry little guy!” She patted my belly. “So when’s the wedding?” She was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Maria! We just got engaged on Saturday and I’m about to have a baby in two months; we’re not in any rush!” I replied, sitting down on the couch.

It was the Monday after our vacation and Maria had insisted that she, Isabel, and I have a girl’s night. Not that I was complaining; I knew that these opportunities were going to be far fewer once Gabriel arrived.

“So you liked the outfits?” Isabel asked, walking in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and three cans of orange soda. Maria made a face as she handed her one.

“Alex has been spending too much time here if this is our beverage selection!” She groused but popped the tab and took a sip anyways.

“You get used to it eventually,” Isabel said. “I mean, it’s pretty much what it tastes like to kiss Alex, so I’m pretty partial!” She waggled her eyebrows.

Maria grimaced and set the offending drink on the coffee table. “Delightful.”

I giggled and shook my head at my two best friends. I’d missed them. “Anyways! To answer your question, Isabel, the outfits couldn’t have been more perfect. Truly. You have such an eye. I cannot wait to see how the pictures turned out!”

“Me either,” Isabel agreed. “So without going into gory detail about my brother’s sex life, how was your trip?”

Being best friends with your boyfriend’s twin sister certainly made for an interesting dynamic! Like any normal teenaged girls, we talked about boys and sex, but there was definitely a bit of a gray area when it came to me or Maria talking about Max or Michael with Isabel.

“It was absolutely incredible!” I gushed. “Except for Saturday, we really didn’t do anything extraordinary, it was just so special to have that time together. It was incredibly hot, but the beach was beautiful and the house was wonderful as always. We’re both really looking forward to brining Gabriel there one day.”

I told them about the day of our engagement and the photoshoot and Max’s proposal, but I left out the bit about my breakdown. For one, it would be a depressing point in an otherwise fun evening, but secondarily I was still having an incredibly difficult time talking about my emotions surrounding the loss of my parents. Even with Max or in therapy, it took a trigger to initiate the conversation and afterwards I was left feeling exposed and vulnerable. And no matter how genuine or well-intentioned, the sympathy offered by others was deeply uncomfortable to receive. It was the tilt of a head or the softening of their eyes, the knitting of a brow. It was the knowledge that there was a tiny voice in the back of their heads saying ‘thank god that didn’t happen to me.’ It was the knowledge that my life had somehow become a tragic story.

It had nothing to do with a lack of trust when it came to Isabel or Maria or anyone in our strange little family unit and I had no question that they would listen to me without judgement or unnecessary platitudes. It was more the notion that my experience somehow made me other. An irrational concept, perhaps, especially considering I was the only pregnant 16 year old we knew, but even then pregnancy and parenthood were something that I knew they would experience eventually; the double homicide of their parents? Not so much. How can you expect someone to relate to you regarding something you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Welcome back, Liz,” Jane said, following me into her office.

“Thank you,” I replied, easing into the chair across from her. “I’m sorry for the voicemail cancelation last week, I wasn’t expecting to be in Florida!”

“It’s perfectly okay, I think it’s wonderful that the two of you got the opportunity to go away for a few days. How was your trip?” She asked, settling herself and placing her notepad in her lap.

“It was absolutely incredible. Max proposed,” I said, holding out my hand to show her the ring. “We’re not in any rush to get married,” I added quickly. “But I couldn’t think of a better way for him to have asked.”

“You know, Liz, if you were most any other one of my adolescent clients, I would perhaps be less than thrilled and spend the session trying to dissuade you from making such an enormous decision so young. Even if those clients were pregnant. But knowing your relationship with Max and particularly having the advantage of Jesse’s notes, all I can say is congratulations,” Jane said, smiling.

“Thank you,” I blushed, glancing down at my ring for a moment before looking back to her.

“Something else happened on the trip, though. And I think I need to talk about it,” I began. I explained the discussion Max and I had the night we were watching Night Moves and admitted that it was something I’d been grappling with for months but was reluctant to bring up with her.

“It’s just that I’ve judged myself so harshly for these feelings that it only seemed rational that everyone else would as well. That it all reflects so poorly on my ability to mother my child. And talking with Max made me realize that my perception of this situation is likely not reality, but I still can’t help the way I feel. My baby is coming into this world under such complicated circumstances and I don’t want any of that to be his responsibility. I want him to be loved and cherished and appreciated for who he is and not tied to the tragedy that came before him,” I explained, choosing my words carefully.

“Do you know what I’m hearing from you right now, Liz?” Jane asked, putting her pen down and folding her hands.

I shook my head.

“I am hearing that you want the absolute best for your child and that his happiness and his needs take precedence over your own. That it is more important to you that he lives a life unencumbered from your experiences than it is that you do. Do you know what that makes you?”

I shook my head again.

“That makes you a mother. That makes you an excellent mother,” Jane said softly. “There is no question that the circumstances around your pregnancy are difficult, but you have an incredible support system of people who love you and your son unconditionally. Missing your parents and wanting them back does not make Gabriel any less loved or wanted. In fact, I would argue that he’s even more precious to them and to you because of the circumstances. You and he are your parents’ legacies. They live on because of the two of you. And the best way to honor that legacy is to be the best possible mother to your child and there is no question you are already doing exactly that.

“In terms of your capabilities as a parent or your desire to love and nurture your child, I have absolutely no reservations. What I do worry about, Liz, is your lack of affinity towards self-care. Trauma during pregnancy is one of risk factors for Postpartum Depression and being a teenaged parent is another. While there is no way to predict whether or not you will suffer from this, the best thing that we can do is to prepare you as much as possible and make sure that you are utilizing the support system available to you. You’ve been forced to make some unprecedented adjustments in this past year and that’s only going to accelerate with a newborn. Of course, you’re already in therapy and in couple’s counseling, so that’s an excellent start, but I think it would be prudent to consider a parenting class and a birthing class.”

“That makes sense,” I agreed. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I could face further emotional complications after Gabriel’s birth.

“I also think that we need to take some steps towards getting you to be more open with people who are not Max. The saying that it takes a village to raise a child is not an empty sentiment; even the most prepared new parents can use all of the help they can get. You need to feel like you can rely on the people that surround you and that you can trust them to be there for you because they love you, not because of obligation. And that’s going to take some effort on your part. It starts with being honest about how you’re feeling because that is the first step to being able to accept support. So if you’re having a bad day and Diane asks you how you’re doing, take that opportunity to open with her. If you’re having a rough day, tell her; if you need help, ask.”

“I think what I’m struggling with most is why connecting with these people I have known and loved my whole life has become so incredibly difficult. I mean, I understand that my parents’ death was the catalyst, but this was never me. Not before. I told Maria and Isabel everything. I never had trouble expressing my feelings or being open about what was on my mind. It’s different with Max, but then again it’s always been different,” I admitted.

“It’s going to take some time. You’ve essentially been in survival mode for the past 8 months. Finding a new normal after a trauma is a complex process and you need to give yourself permission to heal at your own pace. You have phenomenal self-awareness; now it is just a matter of working through these issues in a way that will not overwhelm you or add to your burden. That’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Jane. Truly.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few weeks passed by quickly, punctuated with doctor’s appointments, our new birthing class, and a parenting class. We were the youngest couple by at least 4 or 5 years, but everyone was supportive and kind which was a huge relief. We even had the opportunity to take a tour of the maternity ward at Eastern New Mexico Regional Hospital and to discuss our birth plan with Dr. Greenberg and her staff. Overall, I was feeling about as prepared as an almost 17 year old could for such a life-changing event, but there was still one issue to address.

The nursery.

A few weekends after we’d returned home from Florida, the guys were assigned to clearing out the guest room adjacent to mine and Max’s bedroom. Diane and Amy took the opportunity to pack Isabel, Maria, and I into the car and drive north to Albuquerque for a baby shopping spree as our options in Roswell were relatively limited. Diane reasoned that it would give the boys time enough to paint the room and lay the new floors and hang the curtain rods so that it would be ready to be decorated. They’d even rented a small U-Haul trailer to cart all of our purchases home!

“I booked us a suite at the Hotel Parq Central,” Diane said excitedly that Friday evening, taking the exit off of 85 into downtown Albuquerque. “And we have reservations at this little bistro Phillip used to take me to when we were in law school. I thought we could use a real girls’ weekend!”

“Diane, you didn’t have to do all of this, JCPenny would’ve been just fine!” I insisted, uncomfortable with the amount of money the weekend would cost.

“Nonsense! This is my first grand baby and I wanted to do something fun and memorable. Besides, the men are going to be a grumpy, sweaty bunch trying to get that room cleared out and painted this weekend so what better time to get as far away from Roswell as we can!” Diane replied, her eyes twinkling in the rearview mirror.

“I for one am thrilled to not have to deal with Jim complaining about his back every night!” Amy interjected. “I left a tube of arnica on the nightstand and a fridge full of beer. He should be able to figure it out from there!”

We all laughed and I felt simultaneously grateful to have these incredible, supportive women in my life as well as a deep, pervasive ache that my mother was no longer here to enjoy this with us. I knew that weekend was not going to be easy.

Once we were checked in, we had a few hours until our dinner reservation, so Maria and Isabel decided to check out the pool while Diane and Amy went downstairs for a glass of wine. I was exhausted and sore from the drive, so I decided to stay back and take a nap.

I was just starting to drift off, wondering how Max and the guys were making out when I heard my phone ring. I smiled when I saw his name on the screen.
“I was just thinking about you,” I said, grinning.

“Did I wake you? I can call back later,” Max asked, immediately concerned.

“I was just about to take a nap, but I’d much rather talk to you,” I replied. “I’d wanted to call before I laid down, but I didn’t want to interrupt you guys.”

“You are never an interruption, Lillabet. We just stopped to have dinner and I wanted to make sure you’d gotten in safely and you were feeling okay,” Max said.

“We did. Our reservation isn’t until 8, so Maria and Iz went down to the pool and your mom and Amy are down at the wine bar. Your son has been playing Mortal Kombat with my kidneys and ribcage so I figured I’d rest for a bit!”

“I wish I was there to rub your back. It feels really strange to not have you here. It’s been a really long time since we’ve been apart.”

“I know. It’s going to be really bizarre sleeping alone tonight. But I think you would’ve been miserable on this trip! Way too much shopping and estrogen!” I quipped and Max chuckled.

“For you, Lillabet, I would’ve grinned and bore it! But we’re having a pretty good time here. Kyle is off tomorrow, so we’ll have all hands on deck. Michael apparently has something in mind for one of the walls, so we’re under strict instructions to have everything else done by Sunday morning so he can have the room to himself.”

“On the one hand, I love Michael’s art so I’m sure whatever he has planned will be beautiful, but on the other hand I’m really hoping he at least talked to your mom so that we don’t end up with clashing themes.” We’d thrown around some ideas for the nursery, but hadn’t settled on anything specific.

“Well, he asked me how we felt about a space theme and I told him I’d ask you, which is the other reason for my call.”

“Actually, I’m not opposed to that at all,” I replied. It seemed more than fitting for a Roswellian baby to have an outer space themed room and considering how much we both loved astronomy, it felt rather appropriate. “So long as it’s space and not aliens!” I amended quickly. I grew up in an alien themed tourist trap, I didn’t need my son to be surrounded by the same little green men from my childhood!

“I already made that perfectly clear!” Max assured me. “He promised that it would be very tasteful.”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful. I’m excited to see it!”

“So am I,” Max agreed. “I don’t want to keep you from your nap, Lillabet. Why don’t you get some rest and give me a call before you guys go to bed tonight.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Good evening, ladies, and welcome to L’Orange. My name is Eddy and I will be your waiter this evening. Are you celebrating anything special with us tonight?” A lanky young man in a crisp white shirt and pinstripe pants greeted us after we were seated.

“Well, I’d certainly say that we are! One last girls’ weekend before the birth of my first grand baby,” Diane beamed and I blushed as the waiter took in my burgeoning belly, half hidden by the tabletop.

“Ah, how exciting! Congratulations are in order, then! Do you ladies know what you would like to drink?”

Dinner was absolutely delicious and Diane spent the better part of it telling stories from her college years with Phillip and my parents.

“And the best part was that there really was a live chicken in the trunk!” Diane was almost in tears and we were all laughing along with her.

“Makes me wish I’d been at college with you guys,” Amy said, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “Sounds like it was a whole lot more fun than 8th grade homeroom!” She teased.

“We had some really great times,” Diane agreed and then she looked around the table. “And now it’s about to be your turn, girls!”

Maria and Isabel agreed enthusiastically, but I just smiled. Somehow, I think my college experience is going to be very different from theirs.

“It’s going to be a wonderful experience for you too, Liz,” Diane said, noting my reservation. “Just because you’ll have the baby doesn’t mean you won’t have the opportunity to join clubs and meet new friends and make lasting memories you can one day share with Gabriel.”

“I certainly hope so!” I agreed. “To be honest though, I think my ideas on what I hope to get out of college have changed quite a bit.”

For as long as I can remember, I was so sure I’d end up at Harvard or Boston University and I had this really specific vision of what that would look like. I anticipated that Max and I would be in the same city if not at the same school, sure, but I imagined living on campus and getting really involved with school activities and taking on extracurriculars and TAing opportunities. I’d dreamt about Max and I studying abroad in Europe during our junior year and maybe even getting engaged while there. I’d imagined visiting Maria in New York or Alex at Cal Poly Tech or even having him in Cambridge at MIT if we were really lucky. I pictured long weekends leaf peeping in the fall and skiing in the winter in the mountains of Vermont and all of us meeting for one last spring break in Florida during our senior year.

But after Gabriel, my thoughts were occupied with building a class schedule that allowed either Max or I to be home with him as much as possible. Doing well enough during our first year at community college to secure in state scholarships to UNM so that we wouldn’t have to worry about tuition. Finding an apartment close enough to campus that would also be in a safe neighborhood, maybe even near a park where we could take our son to play. Instead of long weekends in the Green Mountains, it was getting the opportunity for Gabe to visit with his grandparents for 3 days. And that spring break senior year had morphed into a family trip to Disney Land because by then Gabe would be old enough to appreciate it.

“That certainly makes sense,” Diane said. “And I think that little one is going to keep you and Max very busy!”

If only we knew.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

We spent the better part of the next day blazing through several major shopping malls as well as some smaller boutiques and consignment shops. Diane and Isabel were in hyperdrive while Maria, Amy, and I just tried to keep up. As soon as I announced that we were going with a space theme, Diane and Isabel launched into a heated discussion about the merits of a whimsical, cartoonish approach (Diane’s choice) or a more astronomy-inspired stellar approach (Isabel’s choice). They went on for about 10 minutes while I looked on in amusement before it dawned on either of them to ask me.

“Why don’t we just see what we can find and we’ll build from there?” I suggested. And here I thought the pregnant woman was supposed to be the irrational one!
We’d gotten through the non-themed essentials - stroller, high chair, car seat, bottles, diapers, wipes, bath products and the like - and we were browsing around a smaller store when something caught my eye. It was a little brown and white stuffed dog with a silver and red space suit embroidered with the name “Cosmo”. Some kids have a favorite blanket or pacifier, but I knew right then and there that Cosmo was going to be Gabriel’s sidekick.

“That’s adorable!” Maria said, taking it from me and looking it over. “He certainly fits the theme!”

“I know, I think he’s perfect,” I agreed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the end of the day, it felt as though we’d picked every baby store in the entire city clean. At one point, I’d thought we were going to have to find a place to rent an entire U-Haul box truck, never mind the trailer we’d brought with us!

We’d reached a happy medium with the nursery aesthetic and besides Cosmo, the thing I was most excited about was a beautiful and entirely too-expensive glider with matching foot rest. It was from the same collection as the mahogany crib and changing table and Diane had even arranged for it to be reupholstered in a gorgeous navy blue fabric dotted with tiny white stars. It would be delivered to Roswell in two weeks.

When we’d finished shopping for all things baby, we took the opportunity to do some back-to-school shopping for Maria and Isabel. Up until that point, I’d been so caught up in the whirlwind experience that I’d hardly had a second to breathe let alone think, but watching my two best girlfriends and their mothers as they excitedly tried on outfits for the new school year planted the seeds for that same profound ache from the day before that settled into my stomach and over my chest. I did my best to stay engaged and to offer input or help pick out items as we browsed the racks, but by degrees it seemed like almost everyone that walked by us were a mother and a daughter out for a shopping trip and I felt suddenly and completely alone.

Like many only children, I enjoyed a wonderfully close relationship with both of my parents, but my mother was truly one of my very best friends. I genuinely enjoyed spending time with her and looked forward to going out to eat or to the movies or even just hanging out around the house together. While I don’t feel that I ever took our relationship for granted, I absolutely did assume that she would always be there. When I was little, I’d insisted that she and my father were going to live to be 129 so that I could live to be 100 and they’d still be around.

While I’d never given the logistics of impending motherhood much consideration prior to becoming pregnant, a subconscious part of my brain simply presumed that she would be very much involved in all of the shopping and setting up the nursery and I would get to hear about her experiences when she was pregnant and gain all of this incredible insight from the woman who raised me so well.

Now, that fantasy was shattered.

I grew more reticent as the evening wore on and by the time we’d returned from dinner, I was on the verge of miserable internally, though externally I was fighting with every ounce in me not to let it show. I was beyond grateful for Diane and Amy and everything they did to make the weekend special and I was incredibly thankful for Diane’s generosity so I didn’t want to diminish what they had done to make any of this happen by sulking.

I just wanted my mom.

While everyone was in the living area of the suite sorting their purchases, I excused myself to the girls’ bedroom saying that I wanted to check in with Max. I closed the door quietly behind me and I really did have every intention of calling him, but as I sat down on the edge of the bed, that ache which had begun in my stomach and my chest enveloped my whole body, somatizing my grief until I began to sob under the agony of its weight. I curled onto my side and brought the pillow to my face to drown out my wailing, but the cries that wracked my body were violent and aggressive and entirely beyond my control.

I was in the room for less than a minute before the door came flying open and a panic-stricken Diane was at my side.

“Liz! Are you okay? Is it the baby?” Her voice was thick with anxiety.

I shook my head, sobbing so violently that I barely made a sound, but I managed to weakly choke out, “I want my mom!”

“Oh, Liz!” Diane cried, sitting down beside me on the bed and leaning over to envelop me in a hug. “Oh, honey. I am so sorry. I know how much you miss her. I wish more than anything she was here with us, here with you. I cannot imagine how hard this has been for you. She loved you more than anything in this entire universe and she would be so incredibly proud of you. Proud beyond measure, Liz. I am so, so sorry.”

She held me and cried with me until my sobs finally began to subside into staccato hiccups. I shifted and she pulled back, smoothing my hair away from my face the exact same way my mother would when I was little. It took all I had left in me not to start bawling all over again.

Diane reached over to the bedside table and handed me a few tissues, waiting quietly while I dried my tears and composed myself.

“I’m sorry, Diane,” I said quietly, still sniffling. “You’ve done so much for me and you’ve been so supportive and you organized this amazing weekend and I don’t want you to think that I’m not grateful.”

“Liz, that is the last thing I would ever think, I promise you. You lost your mom, Liz and you have every right to want and miss her! I have always loved you like a daughter and that will never change, but that does not mean that I can ever be her. You are about to become a mother yourself, it is only natural to want your own mother there to guide and support you. I’m 46 years old and I miss my own mother every single day. I cannot imagine what it would’ve been like to not have her at your age.”
“It’s hard. It’s really damned hard,” I mumbled cradling my belly. “I fight every single day to be strong for him, to move forward for him so I can be the best mother possible. And I’m so lucky to have you and Amy to look to as examples of how to be an excellent mother, but it’s just…different,” I finished lamely, not wanting to hurt her feelings in any way.

“The grace and the resilience you’ve shown during these past 8 months has been astounding, but sweetheart, you’re human. These feelings are human and normal and it is healthy to express them. I know that I could never replace your mom, but I will be here every step of the way to help and support you in any way I can. You’re not going to do this alone, you’ve got an entire village behind you. And this precious gift,” she pressed her hand to the side of my bump. “He is going to be so loved that he won’t even know what to do with himself. He already is. And we’re going to tell him all about his amazing grandparents and let him know how much they love him and that they are watching him and always with him. They are always with you, too, Liz. I firmly believe that.”

I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Thank you Diane. For being here. For everything. I don’t know where I would be without your support.”

“Anything for you, Liz. I love you very much.”

“I love you, too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Max was waiting on the front stoop when we pulled into the driveway Sunday afternoon. He all but rushed to my door and flung it open with a huge grin.

“Couldn’t wait for me to get into the house, huh?” I teased as he helped me out of the car.

“I missed you too much!” He said, kissing me soundly before enveloping me against his broad chest.

I sunk into his arms and a deep, warm sense of contentedness settled into my bones. I was home.

“I missed you too,” I replied, planting my chin on his chest and looking up at him.

“I could stand here all day,” he said, smiling down at me.

“I could too, but guess what?”

“Hm?”

“You have a lot of unpacking to do, Daddy! And this mama needs a serious nap!”

“Well, before we get to that, there’s something we have to show you,” he said and I could see the twinkle of excitement in his eyes.

“Is Michael done?” I asked, my anticipation building.

“Why don’t we go find out?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was standing in front of the closed door to Gabriel’s new nursery with the rest of our friends and family eagerly crowded behind me. Max slid his hands over my eyes and someone opened the door.

“Walk forward three steps and then turn to your left,” he instructed, guiding me into the room.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded eagerly, practically bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“Okay, open your eyes,” he whispered into my ear and slipped his hands from my face.

It took me a minute to process what I was seeing, but when it struck me all I could do was gasp.

“Do you know what you’re looking at?” The question came from Michael who was somewhere behind me.

“It’s…it’s the sky the night of my parents’ funeral. The night Gabriel was conceived,” I murmured, unable to take my eyes off the wall.

“A-plus yet again, Liz Parker,” Michael quipped, pleased.

The wall was painted blue-black with the constellations outlined and named in white. It was centered on Auriga, Taurus, and Perseus, with Pisces and Andromeda to the right, Orion below, Cassiopeia and Ursa Minor above, and Ursa Major, Leo, and Cancer to the left among a collection of others. He also labeled Saturn, Jupiter, Eris, and Makemake. I spent enough time studying astronomy to be able to identify the positions of the constellations based on the time of year and knowing that this configuration would only take place in late January, I only had to follow the logic to understand the meaning.

And at the top of the wall in a beautiful script was the phrase ‘Ex Cor Nostrum, Ad Astra’ - from our heart, to the stars.

“Wow,” I breathed, stunned. Never did I expect something so profoundly meaningful. “It’s perfect. It’s beyond perfect. I just…wow.” I tore myself away from the wall and turned to Max.

“How did you guys come up with this?”

“This was all Michael,” Max said, gesturing to his brother.

“I just wanted to do something special for the little guy, but I wanted it to be something he could grow up with a bit, too. Alex is the one that suggested the phrase,” Michael explained and Alex gave us a salute and a lopsided grin from the doorway. “I’d wanted to use the typical per aspera ad astra, but Alex thought that ex cor nostrum ad astra was more fitting. And considering the fact that he’s taking 7 years of Latin, I figured I’d take his advice.”

“It’s just incredible, Michael. I don’t even know how to thank you,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.

“No need to thank me, kid. I’d do anything for my Godson,” he said, hugging me back.

“And just what makes you think you’re the Godfather?” I joked, letting him go.

“If Maria is the Godmother, I damned well be the Godfather. Alex and Isabel can have the next one!”

“The next one better not show up for years and years from now!” Phillip interjected from the hallway and we all burst into laughter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"It's like...chemical" ~ Liz Parker
keepsmiling7
Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2649
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 15 8/4/20

Post by keepsmiling7 »

Of course Liz still misses her mom, despite this wonderful support system she has.
I'm glad she has be warned about postpartum depression. At least she can watch out for those signs.
Parenting classes and birthing classes......and they were the youngest couple there.
Diane sponsored a great shopping trip.......she's proud to be a first time grandmother!
And to top everything off.......Michael's art work!
Great emotional part.
keepsmiling7
Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2649
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 15 8/4/20

Post by keepsmiling7 »

Of course Liz still misses her mom, despite this wonderful support system she has.
I'm glad she has be warned about postpartum depression. At least she can watch out for those signs.
Parenting classes and birthing classes......and they were the youngest couple there.
Diane sponsored a great shopping trip.......she's proud to be a first time grandmother!
And to top everything off.......Michael's art work!
Great emotional part.
User avatar
ChemChic
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 57
Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 6:59 pm
Location: There's really somewhere else I'd rather be...

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 16 8/12/20

Post by ChemChic »

Hi All! Thank you for the feedback as always! Sorry I am a few days late, I'm still reeling from these last few weeks!

This next chapter is longish and the one that will follow is a bit shorter, so hopefully this will make up for the brevity of next week's update! Enjoy!

Also, I do not own the rights to Wild Horses, I'm just borrowing a great song. And if you haven't ever heard of Sigur Rós, I highly encourage you to check them out. I promise that you've never listened to anything quite like them!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“Well, except for the glider, I’d say we’re pretty much done!” Max proclaimed, surveying the nursery.

We’d spent the week following the shopping trip assembling, sorting, washing, and organizing all things baby. I’d also tackled our bedroom closet and dressers and was about to start in on the kitchen when Max had to rein me in. Apparently, my nesting instinct was rather strong!

“I can’t believe our baby is actually going to be in this room in a little more than a month,” I said, taking it all in.

“It’s incredible,” Max agreed. “I still can’t believe we’re about to have a baby.”

“It’s pretty surreal. If you asked me a year ago where I would be today, standing in our son’s nursery would not be on even my longest list. But after everything that’s happened, I’m so glad we’re here. I’m so glad he’s here,” I said quietly, caressing my bump.

Max pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I leaned into him.

“What do you say we go out tonight, just the two of us?” He suggested. “Maybe Señor Chow’s and we’ll figure out something to do afterwards?”

“I think that sounds like my idea of the perfect night.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Do you remember the first time we came here alone?” I asked, taking a bite of my Kung Pao tacos. The combination of sweet and spicy hit my tongue and I practically moaned. That’s the stuff!

“Of course I do. It was the night of our first official date as boyfriend and girlfriend,” Max grinned. “We sat in that booth over there and you ordered Lo Mein but would only take these tiny bites because you were so worried about getting it on that lavender dress that looked so beautiful on you. And I was so nervous and excited to take you to the dance as my girlfriend and to get to kiss you romantically for the first time that I barely ate and ended up being hungry all night.”

I laughed. Poor Max had ended up eating like six of these terrible oatmeal raisin cookies the school had at the snack table because his stomach was growling so badly!

“I felt so grown up that night. It was the first time my mom let me get my nails done and I was wearing my first pair of heels which I’d insisted upon because you’d just gone through a growth spurt and I was like 8 inches shorter than you without them!” I giggled, relishing the memory.

“And then because we were both so nervous you suggested that we play some pool and you whupped my butt but I didn’t even care because I was convinced that it was the single best night of my life,” Max said and I smiled. I’d felt the same way, too.

If only we’d known at 11 and 12 how many incredible nights there would be to come!

“What do you say, want to play a round for old time’s sake?” Max asked, raising his eyebrows excitedly.

“Max, I have a beach ball protruding from my abdomen, how on earth do you propose I play pool?” I laughed.

“We’ll improvise! I’ll even give you a handicap!”

“You only get a handicap in golf,” I shot back, rolling my eyes without malice.

“C’mon, please? Let’s recreate our first date! We’ve already got the dinner part down, now we just need to play pool, go dancing, and have our first kiss!” He looked like a kid on Christmas.

“Fine! Okay! You are such a hopeless romantic!” I relented with a chuckle.

And I absolutely love it.

Max walked over to my side of the booth and held out his hands, helping me to my feet. Just as we did on that night almost 6 years prior, I took stripes while he played solids, but this time I got to call a redo every time Gabriel got in the way of my shot or kicked me in the ribcage which allowed me to win handily.

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” I said, lining up my shot and sinking the ball with ease. “Guess I’ve still got it, Evans!”

“You’ve still got it alright,” he laughed. “But I have to say, the view totally beats the game any day!” And he winked at me.

I was wearing a black, fitted, scoop neck top that was apparently more cleavage-friendly than I’d intended when selecting it.

“God, you can be such a guy!” I groaned, tugging the neckline of my shirt up in mock indignation.

He leaned across the pool table conspiratorially. “Oh, it’s not just the shirt, Lillabet. Those white pants are doing all sorts of wonderful things for that perfect little ass of yours.”

“You still think my ass is perfect and little? I could kiss you, Max Evans!” I exclaimed.

“Not until we dance,” he insisted. He pushed away from the table and walked over to the jukebox on the far wall, flipping through the selections for a few minutes before a slow smile spread across his face. He dropped a quarter in the slot and pushed a few buttons before returning to me with an outstretched hand.

And then I heard the opening chords of The Sunday’s version of Wild Horses and I almost began to cry. It was the last song played that night of our first dance and it was absolutely perfect.

Childhood living is easy to do
The things that you wanted
I bought them for you
Graceless lady
You know who I am
You know I can’t let you
Slide through my hands


“You know, Lillabet,” Max said as we gently swayed to the music. “I had this grand plan to kiss you at the end of this song. You were so beautiful and your lips looked so soft, but I didn’t want to embarrass you or make a fool of myself in front of the whole school. I spent the entire dance trying to decide if I was going to go for it.”

And wild horses
Couldn’t drag me away
And wild horses
Couldn’t drag me away


“And did you know that I spent the entire dance hoping that you’d end it with that kiss? I was so heartbroken when it ended and you pulled away. I thought maybe you’d decided you didn’t like me that way. I was about to run off to the girls room in a puddle of tears, but then you reached for my hand and laced your fingers in mine and you gave me the Max Look…”

“The ‘Max Look’?” He asked, cocking his head curiously.

“That way you look at me that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the entire world. That way you look at me that makes me feel no one in the world has ever seen me the way that you do…” As I explained myself, his face morphed and I grinned. “Yeah, that one.”

“That’s because when I look at you, Lillabet, you are the only person that exists to me.”

I watched you suffer
A dull aching pain
Now you decided
To show me the same
No sweeping exits
Or offstage lines
Can make me feel bitter
Or treat you unkind


“So when you looked at me like that, I knew that you felt what I felt but that for whatever reason, you were waiting. I had butterflies the entire way home, all I could focus on was the tingly feeling that kept shooting up my arm as you rubbed my hand with your thumb.”

And wild horses
Couldn’t drag me away
And wild, wild horses
Couldn’t drag me away


“I’d really thought that after we got back, we would be able to just sneak up to your room and I’d have my opportunity, but then Maria insisted on that infernal after-dance dance party and I had to wait almost two more hours. By that time, I was absolutely kicking myself that I didn’t just go for it!”

“But when you finally did, it was so incredibly worth it!” I said. He was about to lean down to kiss me then when an idea struck me and I stopped him.

“Max, wait,” I implored him. “I want to recreate that first kiss. I want to go to my balcony one last time.”

He stopped swaying and looked down at me in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, everything is still there. I just…I don’t know, I just want to relive one of the best nights of my life,” I felt suddenly and ridiculously shy, but I forced myself to hold his gaze.

“There is nothing I’d like more.”

And wild, wild horses
We’ll ride them someday
And wild, wild horses
We’ll ride them someday


~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We’d been back to my family’s apartment a few times since the first day we started sorting through everything and were mostly done with the kitchen, main living area, and my parents’ bedroom, but while I’d packed all of my clothing and necessities, my room was otherwise untouched. Part of me knew that the day I completed that task was the day I truly let go of the only home I’d ever known. I just wasn’t ready yet.

Max pulled the Jeep up in front of the side stairs and we got out, making our way up to the back door. He reached above the doorframe and produced the key, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let me in.

It was so strange to walk into an empty living room, all of the furniture either already packed into storage or donated, but I tried not to dwell on it. Instead, I took Max’s hand and led him to my bedroom. Once the door was shut soundly behind us and I was surrounded by all things familiar, I pretended for just a moment that my old, normal life was just on the other side of that door. That my mom was reading in the living room and my dad was at the kitchen table doing the books and that I was just going to bed and they’d both be there in the morning when I woke up.

It was a wonderful fantasy.

Max climbed through to my balcony first and then helped me up. While it wasn’t as easy or as graceful as it once was, it wasn’t as difficult as I’d expected it to be.

I was surprised to find that most of my cacti and succulents had survived the summertime drought and were still thriving in their terra-cotta pots. Max took a moment to plug in my tea lights and light a few candles while I took in the familiar surroundings that felt entirely incongruous to my present life. When my parents died, everything became cleaved into ‘before’ and ‘after’. The person I was before lived in that bedroom and spent hours on this balcony. The person I was after did not.

But I wasn’t there to dwell on my loss or to war with these two versions of myself. No, I was there to relive a precious memory with the man that I love beyond measure.

“So if memory serves,” Max said, coming up behind me. “You were standing right…here,” he moved me a few paces to my right and turned me to face him. “And I was here having a minor panic attack,” he said, stepping back from me about six inches with a lopsided grin.

“And I told you that I’d had an amazing time that night and I was really glad that we got to go as boyfriend and girlfriend and as I said that, I turned about a thousand shades of red and had to stare at my shoes.” I said, getting into the moment.

“And then I stepped towards you so that we were a few inches apart,” he moves towards me until my bump is firmly pressed against his abdomen. “Of course, we didn’t have this little Bug between us,” he quipped and I laughed. “And then I reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear,” he demonstrated by slipping his fingers through an errant strand and brushed it back. “Because you had…”

“A hair thing,” I finished for him, looking up at him through my lashes. “And my heart started beating a mile a minute because I could feel your warm breath on my face and all I could think about was that you were about to kiss me and I was convinced that if you didn’t, I was going to explode.”

“And I was convinced that I was going to explode when I did do it,” Max smirked, his mouth drifting tantalizingly close to mine. “And I said, ‘well, since I’m your boyfriend, I’m going to have to do this,” and finally, finally his lips were on mine. The kiss was soft and tentative, just as it had been all those years ago, filled with a yearning and a promise of a lifetime together that was to come.

We separated slowly and he dropped his forehead to mine. “Exactly how I remember it,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“But you know what makes it a million times better?” He asked, his eyes smoldering.

“What’s that, Max?” I breathed, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth and letting it go slowly in anticipation.

“That now I can do this…” And he really kissed me. Deeply and passionately, his tongue seeking mine, his lips sucking, exploring, teeth nipping, hands roaming.

“Max,” I moaned, holding him closely as he trailed kisses down my neck and across my jaw. “Max, let’s go lie down.”

“Yeah?” He whispered, catching the bottom of my ear between his teeth.

“Uh huh,” I mumbled, pressing into his obvious arousal.

He kissed me once more before taking my hand and leading me back towards my bedroom. Getting back in was a bit more cumbersome than crawling out, but we managed and as soon as my feet were firmly on the floor, Max’s hands were underneath my shirt tugging it upwards in one swift motion.

“God, Lillabet,” he groaned as he released the front closure of my bra and exposed my full, soft breasts. He palmed my pliant flesh and ducked his head to take my dark nipple into his mouth and I hissed as I felt my let down reflex and I looked down to see a few drops of colostrum leak from the breast not currently occupied.

Max released my nipple and licked his lips. “So sweet,” he murmured, catching the dripping fluid on his tongue and lapping his way back upwards. He kissed the valley between my breasts and dropped to his knees in front of me, hooking his fingers under the edge of my belly band and slipping it down slowly, exposing my bump inch by inch. I’d been incredibly lucky to have no issue with stretch marks and though tight, my skin remained smooth and unmarred.

He kissed and caressed my belly, the tenderness juxtaposed with the eroticism sent my need into overdrive and intense desire bloomed anew deep in my core. I threaded my fingers into his hair, encouraging him to move lower and he did not disappoint. He sat back on his heels just long enough to gently remove my shoes and socks before sliding my pants and panties down in one swift movement. I steadied myself on his shoulder while I stepped out of my last scrap of clothing and then his mouth was on the underside of my belly and my leg hooked over his shoulder as he finally laid purchase on my wet, aching center.

I convulsed involuntarily as he sucked my swollen bud into his mouth, holding it between his pursed lips as his tongue drew languid patterns over the exposed bundle of nerves. I held tightly to him, the pleasure of his mouth on my core emanating throughout my whole body. I gasped as he teased my opening; first with one finger, then with two, before plunging them deep inside of me and curling into my g-spot.

“Max!” I cried, my knees buckling at the onslaught of pleasure crashing over my body.

He withdrew from me only long enough to stand and push me gently backwards towards the bed, dragging his shirt over his head in the process. He unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and let them fall to the floor along with his boxers and I leaned up on my elbows to watch him over the swell of my belly. He was rock hard everywhere and I pressed my legs together in delicious anticipation.

“No, Lillabet,” he whispered, slipping his palms between my thighs so I would open up to him. He dropped back down to his knees and his mouth followed the path of his hands until his hot breath spread over my core once again.

“Mine.” He kissed my mons. “Mine.” Then the juncture of my thigh. “Mine.” Then the opposite side. “Mine.” My clit. “Mine.” His fingers slid home once more.

Definitely mine.” He kissed my belly possessively as he stimulated my g-spot.

“It’s all yours, Max. I’m all yours!” I cried as his mouth closed over my core. My orgasm came hard and fast as I screamed out my release, twisting the bedclothes in my fists.

I trembled with the aftershock as he withdrew from me slowly, kissing my inner thigh one last time before standing up.

“Can you turn over and get up on your hands and knees?” He asked, stroking his erection languidly.

“Can I?” I tried to process his request through my post-orgasmic haze. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He helped me to sit up and I repositioned myself so I was on all fours in the middle of my bed, looking over my shoulder at him in anticipation.

“Is this what you had in mind, Max?” I asked sultrily, biting my lip.

Instead of replying, he knelt on the bed behind me, massaging the globes of my ass before leaning down to playfully nip at one cheek. He smoothed his hands up my back and then under to cup my breasts before trailing down to cradle my belly. I felt his throbbing tip at my entrance and I pushed back, desperate to feel him inside of me. He did not disappoint.

“Fuck,” he groaned, burying himself in me. “The fantasy doesn’t even begin to come close to reality, Lillabet.”

His thrusts were long and slow, teasing every nerve as his hands explored my body.

I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to him, the pleasure mounting like a hurricane, spiraling outward from my core until every inch of me was in a frenzy.
“God, Max, that feels incredible,” I moaned and then I gasped as he began to massage my clitoris in deliberate circles. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, that feels so fucking good!” I cried, pressing my hips into his hand, my body begging for more.

“Sit up,” he commanded, wrapping one arm around my belly and the other around my chest, helping me rise up onto my knees. He rocked back and suddenly I was in control, my back firmly against his hard chest and his hot breath on my neck as I rode him. He found my clit once more and I almost sobbed in need; the onslaught of sensations was overwhelming.

“Max…fuck, Max, I am so close…oh god, please!” I moaned desperately, grinding into his hand.

“Then come for me, Lillabet.” Those five words were all it took to send me careening over the edge, my inner walls convulsing around his thick member and in a few short strokes he joined me in utter bliss.

“Jesus, Liz,” he rasped, dropping his sweat slicked forehead to my shoulder.

“Mmm,” I agreed incoherently. After a few moments, I let him slide from my body and I laid down on the bed completely spent. I rubbed my tight belly and took a few cleansing breaths.

“Contractions?” Max asked, concerned. He lay facing me, massaging my womb.

“Little ones,” I smiled. “Totally worth it!”

Max chuckled at that and kissed my forehead. “If you say so, Lillabet.”

“You know, I’d have to say that was a revisionist version of our first date. Because I certainly don’t remember this part!” I teased.

“Well, we did sleep in this very bed that night,” Max pointed out. “Of course, we were definitely a whole lot less naked!”

I kissed his lips sweetly. “Thank you for this, Max. This was really special.”

“I’m so glad, Lillabet,” Max said, brushing my hair from face.

“It’s really surreal to be here,” I said quietly. “I keep expecting to get a knock on the door telling us to leave it open.”

Max kissed my forehead. “I know.”

“What’s even more strange to me is that Gabriel will never get to know his grandparents nor will he ever set foot in the Crash Down. We spent so many of our formidable years here. It holds so much history for me and it was always something I thought that we would be able to share with our children. It just makes me sad to think he’ll never have a breakfast cooked by my dad or a Crash Down birthday party. As much as I’ve always complained about being from a small town in the middle of nowhere, there was something really special about having grown up here and our son will never get to experience that.” I gave Max a sad smile. “I just wish things could be…”

“Different,” we said simultaneously.

We were quiet for a while, taking in the last time we’d ever be in this room that held so many firsts for us.

“Did you want to head back, Lillabet?” Max asked, jostling me from my reverie.

“Do you think we could sleep here tonight, just one last time?” I asked in response.

“Of course we can,” he said softly. “Let me just call Michael so he can give my parents a heads up in the morning. I can only assume they’re already in bed.”

Max untangled our limbs from one another and after pulling on his boxers went in search of his phone. I sat up with some effort and scrutinized my bedroom. While we’d packed all of my clothing and toiletries, all of my books, pictures, CDs, and knick knacks were still exactly where I’d left them. I stood and grabbed my favorite bathrobe off of the hook on the bathroom door and slipped it on, just barely getting it to close over my belly. I could hear Max’s side of a murmured conversation on the balcony as I slowly explored my room, almost as though I was seeing it for the first time. There were so many photographs of the 6 of us and even some of all of our families together. And of course there were countless pictures of me and Max, from us as infants all the way up until January of that year. The nostalgia that surrounded me was warm and comforting, overshadowing the ache that had settled in when I realized I would never sleep another night in this room.

When I approached the dresser that held my CD player, something caught my eye. There was a jewel case set atop the player that I hadn’t seen before. I picked up the album and read the cover: Sigur Rós - Ágætis Byrjun. I furrowed my brow in confusion and then realized what I was holding. A few days prior to their death, my dad had come home raving about this incredible Icelandic band he’d discovered that was unlike anything he’d ever heard before. My father had the uncanny ability to find obscure music that was exactly my taste, so I was always excited when he found something he thought was particularly special.

Gingerly, I popped the case open and placed the CD in the player, turning the volume up just a bit before sitting back down on the edge of the bed, still holding the case. When I went to pull out the booklet, the edge of a yellow post-it note caught my eye.

Lizzy,

I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful than this album and I know I have never seen anyone more beautiful than you - inside and out. If you’ve ever wondered how deeply I love being your father, just listen to this album because the feeling you get from hearing these songs is the same feeling I get when I see you. I’m the luckiest dad in the whole world. You’re the poem, Liz.

Love,
Your biggest fan


“What are you listening to?” Max asked curiously as he climbed back through the window.

I looked up when his feet hit the ground, silent tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Lillabet, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?” He’d crossed the room in 3 short strides and was crouching down in front of me so that we were almost at eye level.
I shook my head and handed him the note.

When he looked up at me again, his eyes were brimming with fresh tears.

“Where did you find this?” He asked softly, handing it back to me.

“It was in the CD case on top of my stereo, my dad must’ve left it there that Sunday or maybe the day before,” I sniffled and wiped my face with the sleeve of my robe.

“I just can’t believe this even exists,” I said, staring at the note.

“Had he ever left you a note before?”

“Never,” I whispered.

“Wow,” Max breathed, stunned.

“Yeah,” I agreed. I looked at the note for a moment longer before adhering it to the CD booklet once more and closing the jewel case. “So I don’t lose it,” I said as much to myself as to Max.

He nodded and stood, taking the case from me and setting it gently on my nightstand.

I sighed quietly and rose, shrugging off my robe before slipping back into my bed, my cheeks still damp from my tears. It seemed like everything was a duality during that time; the note was so beautiful, so incredible and I felt immeasurably grateful that he wrote it and that I found it, but it also shattered my heart yet again. I hardly felt the suture lines had a moment to heal before something else tore it asunder.

The bed shifted as Max crawled in behind me, cocooning me against him. He cradled my belly protectively and I felt Gabriel shift under his touch; there was no question in my mind that our son knew his father.

“This is gorgeous,” I said quietly, finding myself lost in the music.

“I’ve never heard anything like it,” he agreed. “I wonder what they’re saying?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I don’t know if it matters, it’s so beautiful.”

I paid attention to each song, trying to imagine what my father had heard and felt when he’d listened to the album. I felt Max’s breathing even out, his chest rising and falling rhythmically against my back as he drifted off, but I did not sleep. I drank in every instrument, every inflection in the lead singer’s voice, every note. I closed my eyes and pictured my father, his hair flopped over his eyes with his oversized headphones plugged into his beloved stereo from the early 80’s that he refused to part with, reclined in his favorite chair at 2 in the morning listening to this album. Whenever he found himself battling insomnia, his panacea was music. But my mother was a light sleeper, so he’d plug into that behemoth of a stereo and vibe until he invariably passed out in that recliner. But that night he hadn’t fallen asleep. Instead, he’d gotten up, dug through the junk draw for a pen, and took the time to write that note. A note in that moment that may’ve seemed sweet but insignificant in the scheme of the decades of life that lay ahead for him and for us as a family. A note that became more valuable to me than any amount of money in the entire world. And sometime after I left that January night, sometime perhaps after my mother had placed those neatly folded piles of clothes on my bed, sometime before he’d crawled into his own bed with my mother for the very last time, he’d taken a moment to tuck that note into the jewel case of this exact album and leave it on top of my own stereo for me to find. He didn’t know if I would read the note right away or even take the time to listen to the CD, even though he was spot on that I would love the band. For all he knew, I’d never slip the booklet out of its holder; I’d simply flip open the case and pop the album in while cleaning my room or doing homework or getting ready for school, never once seeing that small square of yellow paper. And when he would ask me in passing what I’d thought of Sigur Rós, I’d tell him that I thought they were spectacular, wouldn’t it be great to see them live someday, and that I couldn’t wait to share them with Isabel because she’d absolutely love them. Maybe I would never have found his note, never have realized that my father’s love for me could be described by music so beautiful that it made your soul cry. That I was his poem.
But I had found it. I had found an unknown vestige of my father in this terrible new world where he and my mother no longer existed. This is what I had left of him now. This album and that note and these unintelligible lyrics and this feeling.

“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered, a sense of incredible peace settling around me. And in that moment, I knew that I was finally ready to let go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I awoke the next morning to the album still playing quietly, punctuated by Max’s soft snores. I sat up and stretched, taking a moment to look around my room. It would be the last time I’d ever see it like this; the way that I saw it countless mornings of my life. How the sun came in from the balcony and created dust moats over the end of the bed or how the sounds of Roswell waking up floated in through the open windows. What was painfully absent were the familiar noises of the Crash Down below or of the apartment beyond my bedroom door.

I felt Max stir beside me and I glanced over at him, brushing his bangs off of his forehead.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily, scrubbing his face.

“I’m ready, Max,” I said with quiet conviction.

“Ready?” He bolted upright, panic stricken. “Are you in labor? It’s too soon! We need to get to the hospital!”

“No, Max! Calm down! I’m not in labor!” I laughed, his bedhead only adding to the comedy of the situation.

“But you said you’re ready?” He said, perplexed. “Are you sure you’re not in labor?”

Oh dear, I may’ve broken him!

“Max,” I said firmly, taking his face in my hands. “I promise you, I am not in labor. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, still confused.

“I’m ready to pack up my room. I’m ready to put this place on the market. I’m ready to move forward,” I said.

Max’s eyes softened in understanding. “Wow, Lillabet. That’s pretty incredible.”

I nodded in agreement. Anyone else would’ve asked if I was sure, if I wanted to wait a little longer, if I was going to regret my decision - but not Max. He knew that once I made up my mind on something, there was no going back.

We spent the better part of the day labeling and packing boxes. Most of the contents of my room were going into storage and we decided that we would use my bedroom set for our apartment once we moved out of the Evanses house. Aside from Max making a few trips down the street for breakfast and sandwiches, we worked straight through and by evening all that was left were a few piles of boxes, my furniture, and a stripped mattress.

As for my balcony, I decided to take my telescope and plants back with us and packed the candles and tea lights for later use. Everything else was to be donated.
“I think that’s it,” Max said, looking around the room.

“You know, if I try hard enough I can convince myself that I’ve just packed to go to college,” I said quietly, the enormity of what all of this meant settling in.
Max wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest, kissing my hair. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to.

After a long moment, I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I want to take one more walk around,” I said. “Do you mind waiting for me outside?”

“Of course,” he agreed, understanding. He kissed my forehead. “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.”

He closed the door behind himself and a few moments later I heard the apartment door open and shut as well.

I took a steadying breath, a combination of sorrow, nostalgia, and acceptance gathering in my chest. I walked around my room slowly, touching the exposed brick, my fingers bumping along the ridges I knew so well. I stepped into my bathroom, studying my face in the old mirror for the last time, my fingers trailing over the porcelain of the sink and the tile on the walls. I looked out onto my mostly empty balcony, remembering the countless nights I spent out there and all of the wonderful memories made with Max and with our friends.

I stopped at my bedroom door, my palm memorizing the worn knob, the tiny hitch before it gave, the way it squeaked when you opened it slowly. I stepped out into the short hallway and crossed the few steps to my parents’ room which now sat empty. I stood for a moment, reconciling this strange empty space with the room I knew so well. I closed the door behind me before walking into the living room, then the dining room, and finally the kitchen. It looked ready to be shown to its’ next family. Empty and clean and waiting. I tried to imagine the memories that someone else would make here. Would another little girl grow up in my room, spending her nights watching the stars and wondering what this big, wide world has in store for her? Would she help her parents in their own restaurant? Would the Crash Down remain a restaurant at all? The one thing that I was adamant about in regards to the sale is that if the new owners chose to have a restaurant, they could not call it the Crash Down and they would have to completely change the dining area. I could not bear the thought of someone else running my family’s business.

A part of me wanted to go downstairs into the restaurant, to see it one more time. Diane and Phillip had hired a forensic cleaning company and apparently everything was in order with no sign a crime had even been committed, but somehow that almost made it worse. I understood why it had to be done, but it felt like they’d just erased the greatest tragedy of my life with impunity. What happened in that space made it perversely sacred and that act felt almost profane.

I went as far as to open the door to the staircase leading to the break room and stopped. Those were demons that it would do me no good to face. I realized that going into the Crash Down wouldn’t bring me peace or catharsis, it would just cause more pain. So I shut that door quietly and headed for the side entrance, pausing to take the apartment in one last time before stepping outside and locking the door behind me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"It's like...chemical" ~ Liz Parker
keepsmiling7
Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2649
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 16 8/12/20

Post by keepsmiling7 »

So many memories for Max and Liz........I loved the "hair thing".
The note from Liz's dad caused the emotions to break forth.
Wonder if packing up the room will start the contractions......and soon Gabe will be here?
It certainly was a painful experience for Liz's last visit at the Crashdown.
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ChemChic
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 57
Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 6:59 pm
Location: There's really somewhere else I'd rather be...

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 17 8/30/20

Post by ChemChic »

Ack, I am SO sorry this update is so late! I drove straight through from Florida to New England and back with a 4 day turn around and I've been overwhelmed with farm stuff since getting home! I will try not to be this late again, but I can't make any promises! Hope you all are well and enjoy this next chapter!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I opened my eyes a bit over a week later on September 18th, I wanted nothing more than to close them once more, sleep until the day was over, and pretend it had never happened.

Why? It was my birthday. And it was the first important day without my parents.

16 year old Liz had parents; 17 year old Liz was an orphan. It was an unfathomable juxtaposition.

I’d begged Max not to make a big deal of my birthday. I didn’t want a party or presents or fanfare. Not that I ever wanted these things, but I was especially adamant that year. I just wanted a quiet, ordinary day.
Max’s breathing was even and soft behind me, warm puffs of air tickling my shoulder in regular intervals. His arm was loosely draped across my waist, so I gently lifted it off and padded into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me.

After tending to my bladder, I stood staring at myself in the mirror for a long moment, scrutinizing my face. When I was a little girl, I would giddily rush to the first mirror I could find on my birthday and look for any signs that I was older. My mom would join me and confirm that my hair was definitely longer and that surely anyone who looked at me would know that I was now 6 or 7 or 8. It made me feel so important and grown up. Like any child, I was desperate to be older, to be seen as competent and mature.

But now? Now I saw a face far older than its 17 years. Eyes that betrayed experience more traumatic than my youth should be able to endure and a body far too round and ripe for such a tender age. If only I could convince that child to slow down and to savor every day, every minute of that innocence. If only I could warn her of how drastically different her life would be in less than a decade. Of how drastically different she would be.

I sighed and pushed away from the counter, turning on the taps in the shower and stripping out of my pajamas. I stepped under the hot spray and closed my eyes, letting the water course over me, plastering my hair against my face and neck. My eyes snapped open when I heard the bathroom door clicking shut. I watched passively through steamy glass as Max stepped out of his boxers and slid the door across the track, cool air mixing with the heat that surrounded me.

I moved aside so he would have room and then once again I was enveloped by hazy warmth. He pressed his lips into the hollow of my neck and I turned to face him, wrapping myself around him and tucking my head under his chin. I could feel a few errant tears escape my eyes and mingle with the water and I forced myself to focus on the feeling of being in his arms.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I finally mumbled against his chest.

“I’d much rather be awake with you than asleep without you,” he assured me and I chuckled in spite of myself.

“I know today is your birthday and that’s really hard,” he said, backing us out from under the water just enough so that he could look at me. “But it’s also our 17 year anniversary, and I think that might be worth celebrating.”

“How can you always find the good in everything?” I asked, shaking my head with a small smile. “I will concede to that as long as you still promise not to make a big thing of it, Max.”

“Well, I was thinking that we’d finish this shower, have some breakfast, and see where the day takes us. Sound fair?” He offered.

“Sounds fair,” I agreed. I could handle that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So what do you want to do?” I asked as we finished cleaning up our breakfast dishes. As it was a Monday, everyone else had either gone to school or work and the house was blessedly quiet.

Aside from a simple note from Diane wishing me a happy birthday, there was nothing else to indicate that today was different from any other and for that I was grateful.

“Well…” Max began, clearing his throat and looking suddenly guilty. Oh boy. “What if I told you that I did have something planned?”

I sighed in frustration. “Max…” I groaned. I knew it, I knew he couldn’t help himself!

“Before you get upset, this is not at all birthday-centric. I need you to trust that this is going to be something that will bring some genuine happiness to your day. Do you trust me?”

I sighed again. “Of course I trust you, Max. I trust you more than anyone else on this planet! But you have to tell me what we’re doing,” I insisted. “I really cannot handle a surprise right now, even a good one.”

It was Max’s turn to sigh. “Okay, that’s fair,” he agreed and slipped a brochure out of his back pocket.

Blissful Baby Ultrasound - Specializing in 3D/4D Ultrasound Technology

“I know he’s due in a little more than a month, but I though this might be a nice distraction from the day and something special for us to have,” Max said, trying to gauge my reaction.

I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself not to cry. “It’s perfect, Max. It’s absolutely perfect,” I murmured, turning the pamphlet over in my hands.

“You’re not upset?” He asked, still tentative.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not upset at all. I can’t think of anything better to do today,” I replied honestly, walking around the island to kiss him.

“Happy anniversary, Lillabet.”

“Happy anniversary, Max.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“How did you even find this place, Max?” I asked once we were on the road.

“I saw them mentioned in one of the parenting books you bought and called Dr. Greenberg’s office while you were away to ask if they did them at her clinic. The secretary told me that they didn’t, but she put me in touch with this place. I actually tried to get you an appointment while you were up there since it’s in Albuquerque, but they were booked. I didn’t want you to have to make the drive twice,” he explained.

“But then you wouldn’t have been there,” I said. “I’d much prefer it this way.”

“Me too,” Max said, smiling.

It was an unseasonably warm day for September and I was grateful that Max had the forethought to borrow Phillip’s Durango that had both working A/C and comfortable seats. The idea of driving the Jeep 3 hours in each direction at almost 36 weeks pregnant was less than appealing!

I relaxed back against the headrest and stared out the window, watching the arid landscape fly by us. Gomez’s Liquid Skin was playing softly on the stereo; it felt like the perfect soundtrack.

“I’d been hoping to go see them in Santa Fe this winter,” I lamented, turning up the volume as We Haven’t Turned Around began to play.

“I know, that would’ve been amazing,” Max agreed. “But I’m sure there will be more opportunities for us to go when Gabriel’s old enough to stay with a sitter.”

“God, did you ever think that ‘sitter’ would be in your vocabulary at 17? Or 3D ultrasound?” I shook my head. “I don’t feel remotely old enough to be a parent, Max. But at the same time, I feel like I’ve lived 5 lifetimes. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“I get it,” Max said, glancing at me before turning his eyes back to the road. “There are a lot of things that I didn’t think would be in my vocabulary at 17…or ever. But I’d say all things considered, we’ve done a damned good job adjusting to this new reality.”

I nodded. I imagined those seemingly forbidden words floating in front of me like soap bubbles. Murder. Pregnant. Orphan.

Orphan.

“Max? Do you ever think about the fact that we’ve both been orphans? You as a baby and me now?” I asked him tentatively. The thought had occurred to me on more than one occasion, but it seemed like such a morbid thing to bring up, particularly considering how little Max knew about his birth parents.

“It crossed my mind shortly after your parents died,” Max admitted. “What got you thinking about this?”

“I don’t know…I mean, I know it’s two completely different situations; you were 6 weeks old and adopted shortly thereafter and have no memory of a life with anyone other than Phil and Diane. But it still remains that we both lost our parents. Do you ever think about them, Max? Wonder what your life would’ve been like if…if it hadn’t all happened?”

I really don’t know what possessed me to ask him about it; in the 17 years we’d know each other and in the countless hours of conversations we’d had, I didn’t have any recollection of ever discussing his birth family. Everything I knew about them came from overheard conversations between the parents or the rare, off-handed comment in front of us kids. Once, when I was old enough to realize that asking about such delicate things directly was impolite but still young enough to be relentlessly curious, I’d asked my mother why Max, Isabel, and Michael had been adopted. My mother gave me the age-appropriate story (mother died in childbirth, father was in a car accident and Jim worked the case) and for a long time that was really all that I knew. It wasn’t until I was in my early teens that I found out the accident happened because their father was drunk.

“I mean, occasionally I guess,” Max began slowly. “To be honest, their existence is such an abstract concept for me. I have absolutely no memories of a life before I was adopted; none of us do. And from what I know, there was some issue between CYFD and the apartment complex where my parents lived and the landlord basically gutted the apartment for back rent. Anything valuable was sold and anything he deemed worthless was trashed. That’s why the only photos I’ve ever seen of my birth parents were from their obituaries.”

“I’m sorry, Max,” I murmured. I didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s okay,” he replied, threading his fingers through mine atop the center console. “On an intellectual level, it makes me sad. I’d like to think that they had hopes and dreams for the three of us and were looking forward to many years together as a family. But that’s all supposition. For all I know, they were overwhelmed with a 14 month old and dreading the idea of having two more mouths to feed.”

“Max…” I began, but he cut me off.

“I’m not saying that as though it is something to pity, it’s just an honest assessment. We literally do not know enough about them or their lives to pass any judgements. I know that my father was quite a bit older than my mother. Of course we know that they were both only children with no known immediate family, though it’s possible with have some distant second cousins out there or something. But when Jim and CYFD went looking, there was no one that wanted us, so I’m more than okay with the assumption that we just have no other biological family.”

This idea made me suddenly and intensely sad, but I kept quiet and let him continue.

“What I do know is that I cannot imagine my life without my mom and dad because that very likely would’ve meant a life without you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I am grateful that they brought us into this world; for the sacrifice my mother made giving birth to us and for the fact that my father had the presence of mind to hire a sitter that night instead of taking us to the bar with him.” He took a deep breath.

“I honestly think that it’s an insult to your experience to refer to myself as orphaned. My biological parents died, yes, but I was adopted before I can remember and I’ve lived my whole life with Phillip and Diane Evans as the only parents I’ve ever known. You had this whole rich, wonderful life with your family and that was taken from you in an instant. Our experiences both fit the literal definition of the word, but it would be grossly unfair of me to assume I know how you feel just because my circumstances meet the criteria, too.”

He squeezed my hand and I gave him a weak smile. “I understand what you’re saying and I appreciate it, but I don’t ever want you to think that my experience outranks yours in any way. It’s not a competition. We both lost our parents. Under very different circumstances, yes, but the fact remains. And I never want you to feel like you have less right to your feelings because it happened to you at such a young age or because you don’t remember them. Knowing that your loss doesn’t define you gives me hope that mine will no longer define me one day. That you can lose the people who brought you into this world and still be a whole person. That there are people who will love you unconditionally even if they didn’t create you. Though I suppose it’s a bit ironic that those people are one and the same for both of us.”

“I just wish you didn’t need to hope for any of this,” Max said quietly. “And it kills me that I can’t take the pain away.”

“But you do, Max. You’re the only thing that has made all of this bearable. Survivable. Even Gabriel…there is no way I could’ve faced this pregnancy and impending parenthood if you hadn’t been with me every step of the way. Supporting me, championing me, loving me. There’s just no way. The hurt would’ve been too great.”

Max lifted our hands to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to mine. “We’re going to be okay, Lillabet. Together, we can face anything.”

“I’m beginning to think that you just may be right.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The clinic was tucked away in a quiet corner of town; just an unassuming storefront in a small strip mall. The waiting room was tastefully decorated and besides a plump, middle aged receptionist, we were the only people there. Per the instructions, I’d downed 32 ounces of water during the last hour of the drive and I was doing my very best to focus on my excitement about seeing Gabriel in 3D than the incredible pressure on my poor bladder.

“Elizabeth Parker?” A soft-spoken young woman in bright fuchsia scrubs called from the open doorway.

We stood and followed her back into a cozy suite with a large screen facing the ultrasound table.

“Do you go by Elizabeth?” She asked, ushering us in.

“Liz,” I replied, smiling. “And this is Max,” I offered.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet both of you! I’m Vanessa. I’ll be performing your scan today,” she said brightly, settling on a stool facing a rather complex looking piece of machinery. “Go ahead and hop up here, unbutton your pants, and roll up your top if you don’t mind. Is this the first 3D/4D scan you’ve had?”

“It is,” I said, following her instructions.

“Well, we’re glad to have you! Max, why don’t you take that chair to her left,” she gestured to my opposite side. “I just have to enter a bit of information here and then we’ll begin. The process is no different from a standard ultrasound, but you’ll see the image transmitted in 3D to the screen in front of you. Hopefully your baby will be in a good position so you can see the face. Do you know what you’re having?”

“A boy,” Max replied and the note of pride in his voice made my heart swell. “His name is Gabriel.”

“Congratulations! You two must be getting very excited,” Vanessa said, her fingers flying across the small keyboard.

“We are,” I agreed, glancing over at Max who gave me a wide grin and reached for my hand.

“And I see today is your birthday! What a fun way to celebrate!” She commented and I stiffened. I was hoping that little fact would be overlooked, but apparently I wasn’t so lucky.

“She’s impossible to buy for, so I thought this would be a good alternative,” Max spoke up and I squeezed his fingers in appreciation.

“Well, hopefully we can get you guys a few great images of Gabriel to take home with you today.”

She applied a liberal dollop of warmed gel to my belly and tracked the wand through it. “So first I’m just going to use a standard doppler to determine position,” she explained and the now-familiar profile of our son appeared on the screen in front of us in black and white.

“He’s gotten so big,” Max murmured in awe. The last time we’d seen him on ultrasound was during our 20-week anatomy scan when he was around the size of a bell pepper; at 36 weeks, he was almost fully developed. It was wild.

“Looks like he’s in a great position,” Vanessa said, making a few adjustments on her monitor before switching probes. “You guys ready?”

Max and I exchanged excited smiles and nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh my g…” I breathed, too awestruck to fully form words. There on the screen before us in absolutely exquisite detail was our son, our Gabriel.

“Lillabet,” Max whispered, enthralled.

A torrent of pure love slammed into me so hard that it almost hurt; the feeling radiating outwards from the center of my chest to the smallest capillaries in my fingers and toes. My heart thrummed against my ribcage and a sound I could only describe as incredulous joy escaped my throat.

Max smoothed my hair from my face and kissed my forehead reverently; his face damp with fresh tears.

Vanessa was narrating the scan, measuring the size of his head and the length of his tiny little fingers, but I barely heard her. I was too busy drinking in every intricate detail of his gorgeous face. Except for his ears which were definitely mine, it was like looking at a baby photo of Max; his chin and nose especially. I could see a bit of myself in the shape of his eyes and his cheekbones, but there was no question that he was a spitting image of his father.

“He looks just like you,” I murmured, my gaze still transfixed on Gabriel.

“No, he’s more beautiful than I ever was; it’s all the pieces of you that make him perfect, Lillabet,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

“I cannot believe that is how he looks, right now, inside of my body. I cannot believe that my body was capable of making something so incredible,” I said. Of course I fully understood the biological process, but logically comprehending the conception and development of human life did not make it seem like any less of a miracle.

“I can,” Max whispered into my ear. Any other time, such a sappy comment would’ve had me rolling my eyes in an instant, but all I could do was smile. In that moment, I was so overwhelmed with love for Max and the child we created together that nothing seemed too over-the-top.

Vanessa took several photos and also explained that we’d be able to take home a VHS of the 4D scan to show our family and to have as a keepsake.

“Well, everything looks great from my end. I’ll seen the 2D images to your doctor along with his current measurements; from what I can see he’s right on track,” she said, helping me wipe the gel from my bump. “Once you’re finished getting dressed, if you can take a seat back in the waiting room for a few minutes, I’ll put everything together for you guys to take home.”

I stopped off at the restroom while Max went to check us out and by the time I was finished, he had a small, blue bag in hand containing the tape and print outs from the scan. We thanked the staff once again and headed for the parking lot. Max walked with me to the passenger side to open my door, but before he could I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“I cannot even begin to tell you how special that was, Max,” I said, looking up at him. “I woke up this morning convinced that this was going to be a horrible day and you turned it into one of the best days I’ve ever had. I could not have asked for a better non-birthday gift.”

Max kissed me softly and gave me a lopsided grin. “I’m not going to lie, it was a little bit selfish on my part; it was all I could do not to drag you here the moment I found out this technology existed!”

I giggled and stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I’d say this was one of those mutually beneficial situations,” I teased. “But really Max, thank you,” I said quietly.

“Anything to see you happy, Lillabet.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

We stopped for a quick lunch before heading back to Roswell, making it back into town just after 5. Turning onto Murray Lane, we had a clear view of the driveway and were both surprised to see an unfamiliar SUV parked next to the Jeep.

“Whose car is that?” I asked Max curiously.

“I have no idea,” he replied, pulling in behind it. It was a brand new Jeep Grand Cherokee with temporary tags on it. “Maybe Amy got a new car?” Max suggested.

“Maybe,” I replied, not convinced.

We made our way into the house, expecting to see company, but we only found Phil and Diane in the kitchen.

“Oh, hi kids! How was your day? How was the ultrasound?” Diane asked excitedly. I guess she’d been in on it, too!

“It was incredible!” I replied, beaming.

“We even have a video,” Max added, handing Diane the bag.

Diane clapped her hands together in delight. “I can’t wait to see it! Should we watch it now?”

“Why don’t we wait until after dinner, sweetheart?” Phillip suggested, chuckling at his wife’s mirth.

Max placated his mother with the strip of photos and both she and Phil marveled at just how much Gabriel looked like Max.

“I can’t believe that’s really my grand baby,” Diane said with a soft sniffle. Phil patted her shoulder, but I could see him holding back his own tears. “Isn’t he perfect, Phillip?”

“He is,” Phil agreed. “Absolutely perfect!”

Max took the prints back from his mother and placed them in the envelope. “Hey, whose car is out front?” He asked.

Phillip and Diane shared a glance before turning back to us. “Well, it’s your dad’s,” Diane said slowly, a small grin on her face.

“But what about the Durango?” Max asked, confused.

“Well, we know that you didn’t want to do anything to celebrate your birthday this year, Liz, and we fully understand that, but there really wasn’t a better time to do this,” Phillip said.

“You’ve both shown incredible maturity and responsibility over this past year and you’ve made a lot of sacrifices for your son. And Liz, you’ve done a tremendous job with the work we’ve given you for the firm. I know that you didn’t want us to pay you and that you wanted the money you would’ve earned to contribute towards Gabe’s expenses, so we took your request to heart. There was no way that we were going to let you drive our grandson home in that rickety old Jeep you kids insisted upon, so we decided that Phillip would upgrade his car a bit early and that we’d give you guys the Durango. This way you have a safe, reliable vehicle for your family,” Diane explained.

“I…I don’t even know what to say,” I said in complete shock. “This is way too generous, there is no way we can accept this!”

“Of course you can!” Phillip interjected. “Just think of it in terms of Gabriel; this gives you a safe, reliable way to get your son from point A to point B without having to worry about engine troubles or having to attach a roof in bad weather.”

“This is incredible, Dad. Thank you both so much,” Max said earnestly, hugging his parents in turn.

“We’re more than glad to be able to do it for you,” Diane said, squeezing his shoulders.

“Everything you’ve done for me, for us; I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” I said, hugging Diane and then Phillip.

“There’s no repayment necessary, Liz. We’re more than happy to do it for you. You two are extraordinary kids and you deserve all of the advantages we can possibly give you.” Phillip insisted earnestly.

“Besides, Michael has that godawful bike and now Isabel can have the Jeep all to herself, so everybody wins!” Diane added with a flourish.

“Except Izzy is going to be none too happy that she’s the one stuck with the Jeep,” Max replied, smirking.

“I think she’ll make an exception for Gabriel,” Diane countered and I nodded in agreement. Under any other circumstances, Max getting an upgraded vehicle instead of Isabel would’ve been the fuel to ignite World War III, but given the circumstances she’d likely be a bit more forgiving.

“Now we’ll just have to get the car seat installed and you’ll be all set to go!” Phillip said. “I remember when we brought you kids home; trying to get three carseats into a 1984 Plymouth Voyager was no easy feat,” he chuckled. “After that, putting in just one is going to be a breeze!”

It took a number of years and a significant amount of distance to truly appreciate just how supportive and instrumental the Evanses were in my journey. Not that I wasn’t grateful at that time; quite the opposite was true. The gratitude was so overwhelming I hardly had the ability to express it. But because of the type of people - the type of parents - Phillip and Diane were and still are today, it just seemed a reasonable extension of their nature. But examining that time in our life with 20 years of perspective, education, and experience has made me realize just how utterly remarkable their love and succor of us was throughout those years. And for it all, I have felt exceptionally fortunate despite the tremendous losses I have suffered. I’ve come to realize - unequivocally - we never would’ve survived what was to come without them by our side.
"It's like...chemical" ~ Liz Parker
lsyoung28
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Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 17 8/30/20

Post by lsyoung28 »

This story is so good, makes me so scared for what's to come
keepsmiling7
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Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 17 8/30/20

Post by keepsmiling7 »

Can't believe you made a four day turn around between Florida and New England.
I'd be in bed for a week after that!

Well, Max does seem to always find good in everything. But then Phillip and Diane have set an excellent
example.
Yes, these 17 year olds seems to have a different vocabulary than most.
3-D scan......certainly didn't have that back in my day. How special for Max and Liz.
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ChemChic
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Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 18 9/10/20

Post by ChemChic »

Hey guys! Figured I'd pop in quick and get this posted. I've been doing quite a bit of work on this recently, but I've been focusing on later chapters. I'm just about to hit 100K words and I'd venture to say that I'm only about a third of the way done with this story. These characters have given me so much to work with and so much to say, parts just keep coming!

After this chapter, I'd venture to say we're anywhere from 5-7 chapters away from the shit hitting the proverbial fan, so nothing horrible is happening in the very near future.

Also, this is our last chapter before we meet Gabriel! How exciting!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After the last night we’d spent at my family’s apartment, Phillip made a few phone calls and hired a realty firm and by the time I was 39 weeks pregnant, we had an offer on the building.

“That was incredibly fast,” Isabel commented as we discussed the pending sale over dinner.

“Well, it was priced correctly and there are few commercial properties on the market in Roswell right now, especially not ones that are fully equipped,” Phillip said, passing the green bean casserole to Michael.

“Do you know what they plan to use it for?” Diane asked, spooning roasted potatoes onto her plate.

“A restaurant,” Phillip said. “But they agreed to the stipulations in the contract. Sounds like they’re interested in bring Indian food to Roswell.”

“That’ll be a nice change,” I said, pushing food around with my fork trying to feign interest in dinner. “Roswell could definitely use some multicultural cuisine!”

I felt Max’s hand squeeze my thigh and I glanced over at him with a small smile. The news of the offer had been surprising, I’d really expected it to sit on the market for awhile, so it was going to take some time to process.

“How was your doctor’s appointment today, Liz?” Diane asked.

“It was good!” I said, glad for a change of subject. “Gabriel is measuring right on target, Dr. Greenberg thinks he’ll be just over 7 pounds.”
“Wow, I can’t believe he could be here by next week!” Isabel said excitedly. “Are you dilated at all?”

I blushed, not keen to talk about my cervix and its present state at the dinner table, but I answered anyways, “I’m 1 centimeter and 70% effaced, so we’re getting there!”

Truth is, when my doctor told me that I had begun to dilate, I had a bit of an internal panic attack. It made Gabriel’s eminent arrival feel very, very real and suddenly the idea of going into labor and giving birth had me more than a little anxiety ridden.

“You’re a very petite woman, Liz,” she’d said, finishing my exam. “I wouldn’t have any problem with you going at any time. Your son is very robust and healthy and I don’t want you to have a difficult delivery and we’d like to avoid a C-section if at all possible. If you don’t go into labor naturally by your due date, I’d like to go ahead an induce you.”

I bit my lip and nodded, looking to Max in a bit of shock. “I’ve read that induced labor can be quite a bit more painful, is that true?”

“The contractions tend to be a lot stronger early on, yes,” Dr. Greenberg confirmed, offering me her hand to help me sit up. “But you’ll have the opportunity to get an epidural which will help combat the pain regardless of whether we jumpstart your labor or you begin naturally.”

“Is there anything we can be doing to help get things going?” Max asked, his concern etched on his face.

“Well, I just swept her membranes, which basically separates the amniotic sac from the cervix and will help with dilation and effacement. Other than that, there are a lot of old wives’ tales, some with more validity than others. There is nothing wrong with walking or light exercise and some women find that it helps more than others, but the jury is out on how much it will actually encourage labor, though it is very good for you to keep moving. Quite frankly, sex and nipple stimulation are your best bets if that is something you are both comfortable with. Sex and particularly orgasms release prostaglandins and the lipid is also present in semen. There is some controversy regarding how effective sex really is, but it is also an excellent way for the two of you to connect. Your pregnancy has been uncomplicated, so there is no medical reason to avoid intercourse and it is okay to engage in it even after you’ve lost your mucus plug, but if your water breaks all bets are off,” she said simply. “But that’s entirely up to you guys. Not all women are comfortable being intimate at this stage in pregnancy - or at any stage. There is no harm either way.”

Max and I exchanged an impish glance. “I think we can…manage…that,” I mumbled, my face burning with embarrassment.

Dr. Greenberg noticed my discomfort and smiled warmly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Liz. Intimacy is one of the cornerstones of any healthy relationship. Embrace it.”

“Did your doctor say anything else, Liz?” Diane asked, bringing me back to the present.

I could feel Max’s hand tighten on my thigh and a blush creep up my neck, but I swallowed and shook my head. “Nope, not that I can recall. Max? Do you remember anything else?”

“Uh, no!” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Nope, that was about it!”

Michael eyed the two of us suspiciously and then grimaced but kept his mouth shut.

If the floor could’ve opened up and swallowed me whole, I would’ve welcomed it!

“Oh, well, I suppose that’s good, then,” Diane said, turning back to her dinner. “Don’t forget, kids, we’re leaving for Clovis after dinner tonight and we’ll be gone the next few days. Of course if anything happens Liz, we’ll come right home, but we’re hoping to get this case squared away before Gabriel arrives!”

“I appreciate that, thank you!” I said, smiling. “I think we’re in the clear, at least for a little while. But I promise we’ll call if anything changes.”

The rest of the meal continued without incident, but the conversation resumed while Max, Isabel, and Michael were cleaning the kitchen. I’d wanted to help, but Max insisted I stay in my seat, even trying to convince me to go sit in the living room but relented when I promised I wouldn’t move from the kitchen table.

“Maxwell. I have midterms next week. If you two keep me up because you’re going at it like rabbits, so help me god…” Michael griped, furiously drying the pan in his hand.

“Oh, give Max a break, Michael. We’re all going to be kept up by another screaming Evans soon enough! May as well let him enjoy it while he can!” Isabel interjected with a smirk.

“What Liz and I do in the privacy of our own bedroom is none of your business!” Max insisted. I could see his ears turning red.

“You make it our business when I can hear it over Metallica! At least Maria and I have the decency to make sure the house is empty!” Michael shot back.

“These are extenuating circumstances!” I called, pointing at my belly when Michael turned around to look at me. “Doctor’s orders!” I grinned and Michael groaned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It just so happened that Gabriel’s orders that night were for ice cream. And I didn’t want the ice cream that we had in the freezer, or the ice cream that we could get from We Cone In Peace. No, I wanted Alvero’s on Main in Artesia…40 miles away. They had this fantastic Fireball ice cream that was all kinds of spicy and the idea of that and a scoop of strawberry had me beelining for the Durango.

“Lillabet, are you sure there isn’t anywhere in town that can make this…concoction for you? I don’t know if being 40 miles away from the hospital is a great idea,” Max hedged once he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Max, the baby isn’t coming tonight. I’m not having contractions, I’m barely dilated, and damnit, I want Alvero’s!” I insisted resolutely.

Max sighed and shook his head. “If you go into labor while we’re an hour away…” He began, but I cut him off.

“Oh, for god’s sake, just drive the damn car!”

He - very wisely - shut his mouth and then nodded. “Yes ma’am!”

I settled back into my seat with a contented grin.

Sometimes being the pregnant lady has its perks!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was a whole lot more recalcitrant an hour and a half later when I was revisited by that ill-advised concoction in full force.

“I think that’s the last of it,” I groaned weakly, still hugging the toilet. Max had already tied my hair back and was pressing a cold compress to my forehead.

“I think that scoop of cotton candy on top of the Fireball and strawberry might’ve been your undoing,” Max said gently.

I groaned, dry heaving one more time before collapsing back against the bathtub. “It sounded really good at the time and it tasted really good going down. Coming back up? Not so much!”

Max chuckled and sat back next to me. I dropped my head onto his shoulder and moaned pathetically before letting out a quiet belch. “Gross. The acid reflux isn’t helping, either! Why did you let me do that?”

I could practically hear him roll his eyes. “I solemnly swear to do a better job keeping you from your cravings next time,” he vowed and I batted at his chest.

“You’re making fun of me!” I whined. “I’m about to have your baby and you’re making fun of me!” I sounded like a petulant 2 year old.
“Oh, Lillabet,” Max laughed, kissing the top of my head.

It took a few more minutes, but he eventually convinced me that getting in bed would be a good idea and after brushing my teeth and splashing some cold water on my face, I trod behind him and crawled in.

Max helped me configure the mound of pillows it took for me to find a comfortable sleeping position; tucking one between my knees, another behind my back, and a third under my belly before kissing me chastely and turning out the light.

“Love you,” I murmured sleepily, settling into my little nest.

“I love you both,” Max replied, resting his hand on my stomach. I heard his breathing even out almost immediately.

“…Max?” I hedged. Nothing. “Max?” I tried again a bit louder and with a small shake to his shoulder.

“What?” He shot up, alarmed.

“I want a brownie.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I awoke the next morning bright eyed and bushy tailed…and breathing better than I had in months. Gabriel had dropped.

I’d kept Max up for the better part of the night between weird food cravings and several bathroom trips, so I left him sleeping while I headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. Overnight, my walk had become a waddle as I felt like I had a bowling ball sitting in my pelvis. My hips ached, but I felt surprisingly energized and chipper, like I could take on the world.

It was a gloriously sunny day and the high was supposed to be in the upper 70s, so I was contemplating an outdoor activity when I was surprised by Maria walking into the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you’d stayed last night,” I said, pleased to see her.

“Michael called me at like 10 asking me to come over, something about wanting a distraction from listening to you and Max all night?” Maria said with a yawn. “But all I heard was you going back and forth to the bathroom about a million times, I don’t know what had his panties all in a wad about!”

I laughed, shaking my head. “The doctor told us that sex would bring on labor. Michael was grumpy that he was going to have to listen to us going at it for the next however many days, so I’m guessing his plan was to give us a taste of our own medicine while Phil and Diane are out of town!”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Maria seethed. “I didn’t even get laid last night! We were up for like an hour but after awhile he just grumbled something about how this would be the one night you guys would keep it in your pants and then he turned over and went to sleep! I had to listen to him snore like a buzzsaw with nary an orgasm to knock me out!”

“I’m sorry, Maria!” I gasped between giggles. Typical Michael. “If it makes you feel any better, I totally intend to take my doctor’s advice later on tonight?”

“No! No way, nuh uh, if Michael thinks I’m going to have revenge sex with him he is dead wrong! I have a perfectly good vibrator that has been sorely neglected, I will happily go home to that tonight and Michael can turn up his Metallica and get reacquainted with his right hand!”

“You know, I really don’t need to think about what my brother does or does not do with his right hand,” Isabel groaned, joining us.

“And I am pleased to say that mine has happily been out of commission for quite some time!” Alex added, coming up behind Isabel and kissing her on the cheek.

Gross!

“And when did you get here?” I asked, perplexed.

“I think you and Max were on your way to Artesia,” Alex said, resting his chin on Izzy’s shoulder.

“I didn’t see your car when we got back?”

“I picked him up, the Rabbit’s in the shop,” Isabel explained.

“Oh look, it’s the breakfast club,” Michael deadpanned, trundling into the kitchen with a sour expression. He leaned in to kiss Maria and she put her hand in his face to stop him.

“Oh no you don’t, Evans!” She announced, pushing him away. “You dragged my ass all the way over here to use me as a prop to get back at your brother and you end up falling asleep before I can reap any benefits from this interaction? I don’t think so, buddy. You’re in deep shit!”

Michael stared at her for a second before trying to defend himself. “Hey! I was tired!”

“No, you were pissed off that you didn’t get the opportunity to harass your brother and his very pregnant fiancée so you pouted like a toddler and went to sleep! And left me unsatisfied and stuck listening to you snore the house down the rest of the night!” Maria bit back.

I watched my friends bicker back and forth with a grin. This felt normal. This felt like 10 months ago, like one year ago, like the way things always were.

“Why are they yelling?” Max’s groggy voice was in my ear and I turned around in my seat to greet him.

“Oh, well, Michael invited Maria over last night so they could have loud sex and annoy us when we got too boisterous. But apparently my misadventure with Alvero’s ruined his plans, so instead of doing it anyways, Michael got grumpy and went to sleep,” I explained with a smirk.

“Yikes,” Max said, shaking his head.

“I was tired!” Michael argued grouchily.

“Dude, you’re so not helping yourself,” Alex said and we all nodded in agreement.

“Fine, whatever. I want breakfast. What are we eating?”

Isabel and Michael rummaged through the kitchen for a few minutes and came up empty, so we decided to head out to the Cowboy Café, a quirky western-themed diner that was once one of the Crash Down’s greatest competitors. It was a friendly rivalry, however, and my parents had been close with the Sanchez family who owned it.

I stood up from my seat at the counter and Max’s eyes went wide. “Um, Liz?” He said, his gaze fixed on my belly.

“He dropped last night,” I grinned, rubbing my bump.

“You don’t say?” Max quipped, his hand joining mine.

“Won’t be long now, Daddy,” I said quietly. As if on cue, my stomach tightened in response. Before Max could open his mouth I said, “still Braxton-Hicks, I promise!”

“Maybe we should bring your hospital bag to breakfast,” Max suggested.

“I’ll be fine, Max. I swear. Now come help me get dressed, I want to make sure I have on matching shoes!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an absolutely beautiful Saturday, sunny and warm with a light breeze so we decided to head over to Mirror Lake for a few hours after breakfast. It was late enough in the season that there were few tourists and we had the shoreline to ourselves. Michael and Alex were across the lake, jumping off of one of the limestone ridges that encased that side of the water and I’d encouraged Max to go with them, but he insisted on staying close.

“Still feeling okay?” Max asked as we watched our friends splash around.

Truth was, I’d been having small, irregular twinges all morning, but there was no pattern and the pain wasn’t intensifying. I knew that was to be expected, but if I said anything to Max it would send him into a tailspin. We needed this time with our friends, to get to be just us for a little while longer. I wasn’t going to ruin that.

“I’m good, Max. I’m really happy to be here with everyone. It feels…spectacularly normal.” I smiled at him and squeezed his knee. “I’d only be better if you’d get out there and enjoy yourself!”

“I am enjoying myself! I’m doing my favorite thing in the whole world,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah? And what might that be?” I asked teasingly.

“I’m sitting here talking to you!”

“Really? That’s your favorite thing in the entire world? There is absolutely nothing else that we do together that you like better? Not one single, little thing?” I asked coyly, running my hand slowly up his thigh before just barely brushing his groin with the back of my hand. He jumped.

“Okay, so maybe it’s tied for first…” He chuckled, eyeing me admonishingly.

“Well maybe later we can see if we can give it a little lead,” I said seductively, suddenly wishing that we were by ourselves.

“You are such a little minx!” Max said and then he groaned as I nipped at his earlobe.

“Go hang out with our friends, Max. I promise I’ll make it worth your while when we get home,” I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

“You sure we can’t just leave now?” Max murmured, nuzzling my neck.

“Go!” I insisted, giving him a playful push. “Besides, I’m totally here for the show!”

“You are incorrigible!” He groaned, giving me a quick kiss before stripping off his t-shirt and heading for the water.

Now that’s what I’m talking about!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a little after 3 when we got back to the house, relaxed, happy, and slightly sunburnt.

I was starting to get a bit more uncomfortable, but I attributed it more to the pressure on my pelvis and lower back than anything else. There was still no regularity to the contractions, but I knew that I was going to have to say something to Max sooner rather than later because the man could read me like an open book. He’d started watching me more carefully when we were packing up at the lake and he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since.

“Liz, why don’t you go lie down? I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’ll join you,” he suggested as we walked into the kitchen.
Even though I was having some pain, I was still feeling remarkably energized and not particularly interested in taking a nap, but I knew that arguing with him would be futile and it would only make him worry more.

“Only if you promise not to put anything back on after that shower,” I replied, biting my lip.

“And on that note, we’re going to find something to do outside of the house!” Isabel announced, shaking her head. I hadn’t realized she was close enough to hear me. Oops!

I laughed and we headed for our bedroom as our friends made plans to give us the afternoon to ourselves.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You really should be resting,” Max argued without much conviction as my lips trailed across his jaw and down his neck while I massaged his erection to life; though admittedly it didn’t need much help!

“But I’m not tired Max,” I replied, teasing his nipple with my tongue before working my way back up to his mouth. “I am however really, really horny,” I mumbled against his lips before kissing him hard.

I straddled him without preamble, and sank down onto his length and we both moaned as he filled me. Finally!

I rocked against him gently, my heavily gravid body felt awkward and alien, but seeing the way Max looked at me, feeling his hands all over me, feeling his arousal inside of me, I couldn’t help but to feel beautiful.

He rose up and took one breast in his mouth, his teeth grazing my sensitive nipple as he massaged the other, stimulating my flesh reverently. I buried my fingers in his hair, holding him hard against me in ecstasy. The things that man could do to my body! I don’t know if it was the hormones or the shift in Gabriel’s position sending blood to vital organs, but my mouth fell open in a silent scream as I orgasmed long and deep and without warning.

“Liz!” Max gasped, his hands roaming everywhere like he couldn’t touch me enough or get close enough.

“Don’t stop, Max!” I rasped, leaning back to brace myself on his thighs, my hips undulating in slow circles.

His slid his hand from my belly to the juncture of our bodies, teasing my clit with quick, deliberate strokes.

“Fuck!” I cried, the stimulation almost overwhelming. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”

“I want to feel you come again,” Max demanded, his free hand massaging my engorged breast as his erection thrust tantalizingly against my g-spot.

I shuddered from the myriad of sensations; his hands on my overheated flesh, his manhood buried deep inside of me, and his fingers dancing across my clitoris causing shockwaves of pleasure to radiate from my core. And there was something else underneath it all; a tightening, an ache that was becoming more persistent. But I closed my eyes and I focused solely on the pleasure. Mine, his, ours together. And then I let go.

“Max!” I moaned, my nails digging hard into the muscles of his thigh.

“Christ! Liz!” Max growled as he exploded, holding me hard against him as he cried out in euphoria.

I stilled over him, panting and satisfied.

“Jesus, Lillabet,” Max groaned, collapsing bonelessly beneath me.

I grinned like the Cheshire Cat and was about to say something coy when a contraction very different from any other I’d experienced took my breath away.

“Liz?” Max asked, suddenly alert.

I rubbed my back with one hand and signaled for him to give me a moment with the other, taking slow, deep breaths as the pain finally subsided.

“Braxton-Hicks?” He ventured, but I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

I shook my head. “I think that might’ve been the real deal,” I said quietly.

Max went utterly still, his eyes wide. “Are you serious?” He croaked and I couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

I eased off of him and onto my side of the bed. “I am,” I replied. I could see him getting ready to leap into action, so I quickly added, “but I don’t think anything exciting is going to happen for awhile, so I need you not to go into a blind panic just yet, okay?”

He swallowed hard, still looking like a deer in headlights. “Okay,” he agreed shakily. “So what do we do now?”

“Well, right this second, I am going to go take a long, hot shower all by myself because it may be the last time I get to do that for awhile and you are going to do everything in your power to relax. I can only keep it together if you do,” I said, holding his gaze. “Okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, okay, I can do that. I think I can do that.”

“Good!” I said brightly. I leaned down to kiss him soundly on the mouth and then shimmied off the bed. “And let’s not panic everyone else yet, either. I don’t think I can deal with Maria freaking out from now until he’s born. I think we should probably call your parents and just give them a heads up, but other than that I’d keep it quiet for the moment.”

“I think that’s very wise,” Max agreed.

I started to shut the bathroom door behind me when he called me back. “Hey, Lillabet?”

“Hmm?” I replied, turning around.

“I love you.”

I smiled. “I love you too, Max.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"It's like...chemical" ~ Liz Parker
keepsmiling7
Roswell Fanatic
Posts: 2649
Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm

Re: Yellow (M/L ADULT): Ch. 18 9/10/20

Post by keepsmiling7 »

Thanks for the early warning of trouble ahead.

But right now things couldn't be better. Loved Max and Liz dodging the sex discussion from Diane and Phillip. But my favorite was Phillip passing the green bean casserole to Micheal. That's one of the things I'll never forget.
Liz's food cravings are to be questioned.
Can't wait for Gabe to arrive!
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