Marlena 42.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.
Elazar Freidman is here. Not here in front of me but in this airport. Finally, after months that feel like years of waiting, Elazar is so close. I resume my pacing in front of his luggage carousel, my eyes glued to the escalator. We’re supposed to stop at the Squirrel Hill clubhouse for the night, his parents miss him too. Then tomorrow we’ll head home to Morgantown. The ol’ partners have helped me prepare his Vice President suite at the clubhouse. I had to practically sit on Dru so she wouldn’t move my things into the suite. I don’t want to assume El wants me in there right away, or at all. He’s been in the army for 7 years; he probably wants to sleep alone for a while.
I hope not too long, though. We shared a bed one night, but it was enough to know that I want to sleep next to him for the rest of my life.
Gosh, I’m nervous, horny, scared, horny, excited, horny.
I’m happy Gundy and his bullpucky is behind us, that El was discharged honorably like he deserved. And Vice President! I had a long talk with Jupiter and Dru the other night. They explained the role of VP and the responsibilities I should expect. Then Dru discussed my own responsibilities as the Second Lady of the club. I laughed at her terminology but sobered quickly when I realized she was serious. I have no doubt that El will be the perfect VP, but me as Second Lady? I don’t know. Dru said not to worry, it’s mostly a supportive role, but I don’t want to let the GGMC down or disappoint Elazar.
I shake off that train of thought and turn around to pace the other direction. I stop, noticing people coming down the escalator. I don’t know why his dark hair is the first thing I notice, but it is, and my heart starts racing wildly. With a choppy exhale, I pick up my sign and hold it above my head.
I stop breathing altogether as I watch the moment he sees me. His eyes drift up to the sign and my whole being centers as he tosses his head back and laughs so loud, he draws the attention of the entire baggage claim.
My hands shake and my arms ache a little by the time he reaches me. The sign drops from my hands as he picks me up and spins me around, my arms wrapping around his neck and holding on with everything I’ve got. I push my face against his neck, his stubble tickling my skin, as tears pour down my cheeks.
“Sweet girl, I’ve got you. And I’m never letting you go again.” He nudges my head until I lift my face to his. His lips fuse to mine and I feel like I take my first full breath in months, maybe years. El forces his tongue past my lips and I’m lost as my tongue dances with his, my legs around his waist, my hands clutching his shirt.
After a few minutes, the realization that we’re in the middle of the airport surrounded by people hits me like a lead ball. My cheeks flush as I move my legs. El lowers me to the ground, but I almost panic at the thought of not touching, so I bury my face between his pecs and breathe him in to settle myself.
“Sergeant Freidman reporting for booty,” El whispers, referring to the sign I made for him. Giggling, I rest my chin on his sternum and look him in the eyes. They’re a little shiny like mine, his lips red and puffy from our kisses. “God, I missed you,” he tells me through a smile that I mirror.
“Ready to go home?” I ask. He nods, takes my hand in his, and leads me over to the carousel. We don’t say anything, just smiling at one another like love-sick fools until his bags come down. We each take a couple bags, unwilling to release our hands, and make our way to short-term parking.
Music plays softly in my car, our hands clasped over the center console during the entire drive to Squirrel Hill. I’m afraid if I let go, he’ll vanish. That this is all a dream.
I startle when he reaches across the vehicle with his other hand to caress my belly. I’m just starting to show, about 4 months along.
“Can you feel them move? How are you? How’s your blood pressure?”
As I laugh, I answer his questions, “Blood pressure is good, and I’m healthy and happy and now that you’re here, I’m whole. I feel a fluttering in my belly, I don’t know how else to describe it, but no outward signs of movement. Sibyl said it was a ‘knowing’ and I guess that’s the best non-answer answer.”
We spend the rest of the drive chatting about the goings on in Morgantown, the pleading from his mom to give her a few minutes with her precious son before I defile him, and his military separation. All the while, my body heats, my nipples tingle and my core weeps in anticipation.
Did I mention I’m horny?
Pulling into the parking lot of the OG clubhouse, I can’t help but laugh at the sheer volume of people standing around outside waiting. El grins so broad as he takes in the sight before us.
“ You are so loved, ” I whisper, proud that he’s mine. Judah pulls open the passenger door and drags his son out. El laughs the entire time he’s passed around from his dad to his mom, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends.
Akivah comes up to my side as I stand back and give him time. “We have a little party set up inside, cake, snacks, nothing major. I know you both are anxious after so long—”
“It’s no problem, Akivah, we have the rest of our lives.” And in that moment, I finally believe it.
She places a soft hand on my cheek, “You can call me mom…if you want.” I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. It’s been so long since my own mother was alive and honestly, she was never a mom. Mars has been both parent and brother to me that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to want more from the woman who birthed me.
I reach up and clasp her wrist with my hand, “Thank you, mom.” She draws me into a hug, and we cry together.
“I’m so relieved he’s home,” she admits quietly. “The years of worry…take care of my boy, Marlena. Be his safe space, be his shelter, and in return he will be everything you ever need in life.”
“He already is.”
“Why are my favorite girls crying?” El wraps his arms around both of us. She and I cling to him, crying a little more. “Seriously? What’s going on?” He sounds worried now.
“They’re happy tears,” Akivah tells him, he scoffs.
“I heard there’s cake.” She steps away from her son and smacks him on the shoulder.
“Pig.” We trail after her into the clubhouse, El snorting like a piggy the entire way.
In the doorway of the entertainment room, we come to an abrupt halt. He begins twitching, incoherent sounds coming out of his mouth. I glance up at him in alarm, then follow to where his eyes are pinned. The entire room is decorated with purple dinosaurs, trains, and a welcome home sign featuring the bald-headed kid every parent loved to hate back in the day. I bend at the waist, laughing so hard, I have to squeeze my thighs together, so I don’t pee myself.
I manage to choke out another, “You are so loved.”
El spins around to glare at me, his lips pursed, nostrils flaring. “I could stand to be loved a little less.”