Parole (Hypernaturals 7)

Lunch in Fifteen Minutes

Angel picked up the blue highlighter, halfway to the door where it had rolled. She dropped it into the cup she also picked up. We kind of ignored things on the desktop for a while.

Morgan and I are not dressed, but this bothered Angel not at all. We sat in the desk chair, snuggling, Morgan on my lap. I was nibbling and burying my face in her hair.

"Here are the washcloths you did not get over to yet." She said, laying them on the blotter. "Lunch in fifteen minutes, and you don't have to get dressed since I ordered guacamole. It's good. Not Adrian good, but good. You need those to get the green off each other later."

Angel paused. Smiled. "I have never seen her happier. Good on you, Adrian. Back in a bit, lovers."

Morgan looked at me, smiling beatifically. "Ok. Fangs. I am eating the guac off YOU, after that little episode."

"Little? You seemed to be enjoying yourself big." I replied.

"So very big. You know all the right places to put those pointy things." Morgan said.

"I probably should keep practicing." I said. 

"You will." Morgan assured me.

We dressed for lunch with Angel. She may not care about nudity and after France, why would she? We played in the pool for a long time, and in France there are no clothes allowed in the pool. Angel mostly played with Vera then though.

"Were you unhappy before? Angel keeps saying about you that today." I asked.

"Let me see: Was I happy before I married the man I love, into a family I love, with daughters I love? Was I happy when I was single? Alone? My only lover in Austin for years a vibrator that did NOT have fangs and a mental image of you?" Morgan asked me, seriously, but with a slight smile.

"Uhh?" I said intelligently.

"When I lived and worked in Houston, I was happy enough. Getting happier as time past even. I considered settling down. Making a choice. Until I was forced to leave and lost everything I had there." Morgan said. "In Austin, as I recovered, I dug myself out of my hole. I was ready again. Then I became unhappy once I knew what and who I wanted, and I realized how far I would be required to mentally travel to get to him. I would not have wanted or asked for him to come to me. I am not a home-wrecker. Much. Not any more. I never really was in Houston: The married men I had sex were in doomed marriages. I had to be the one that changed. I required that of ME. Now I have everything I ever wanted, and so: Yes. I used to be happy. Then: I wasn't. I adapted. Slowly, I will admit however I did not think there was a hurry. You were going to wait. You said that over and over. Then you went missing in France. I was not happy at all when that happened. Now you are back, we are married, Rachel has at long last been conceived and born and we are honeymooning finally, so I am incredibly happy."

"Good Morgan's come to those who wait." I said sagely.

"To? Or with?" Morgan asked, arched eyebrow.