I’ve Just Begun to Care
Emma Redmer Nesmith sat at the window, watching the clouds gather on the beach across from the Sea Mist, the Victorian hotel she and her new husband Michael Nesmith were staying at on their honeymoon. She shivered, holding the thick quilt she had wrapped around her close. It looked like it may snow. She felt the chill, despite the heat that belched at odd intervals from the radiator on one side of the small, low room.
The Sea Mist was one of the loveliest of the small hotels in Cape May and Emma was grateful for her parents pulling strings to get them this room for a week as a wedding present. Otherwise, they probably would have spent their honeymoon at the Pad, trying to find privacy away from prying eyes (namely Davy’s and Peter’s). They’d been teased enough about their standoffishness and tendency to bicker over even the smallest things, and neither of them took the jokes well.
“Penny for your thoughts, darlin’?” Emma smiled as she felt a warm pair of lips nibble lightly on her neck. Mike put his arms around her, holding her close to his slender chest. “Can’t sleep, Em?”
“No, honey, not really.” Emma sighed and shook her head.
“Nightmares?”
Emma shook her head again. “Just worried.”
“About what?”
“About a lot of things.” Emma leaned further into Mike’s chest. “What are we going to do when we get back? Right now, we have enough money for food and most of our bills and to at least pay one month’s rent. Davy and Peter are still at the Pad. I know they’re practically family, but it’s going to be a bit awkward.” She let out a sigh. “And then, there’s all this recent business with Zero and that devil woman.” Emma spat the last words out like they were spoiled fruit.
Mike just hugged her, stroking her mass of tangled brown ringlets. “Oh, believe me, honey, I understand about the last part. That witch must have needed glasses and her head examined. I’m not Sir Robert and you’re not Emmeline. They both died five hundred years ago. We are Michael and Emma Nesmith, musician and writer, residents of Malibu Beach in 1969, and no one can change that now, least of all her.”
“Mike?” Emma asked quietly, “w...what was it like when you were in the crystal? I could feel it when Micky…paralyzed…you, but all I knew when you vanished was that you were scared at first, then calm.”
Mike closed his eyes, his face growing stony. “I don’t remember much. Micky held my head and pried my eyelids open, and he was strong, stronger than I’d ever seen him. They...they kept telling me to watch the crystal. Micky whispered in my ear to let the crystal take over my mind.”
His level voice began to tremble. “I...I couldn’t help it. I listened. It was like…the crystal…it was everything. It was all there was. It was…me, and I was it. Mick and Zero told me to go to sleep, and I felt like hundred-ton lead anvils were weighing my eyes down.” Mike gulped, holding Emma close. “That’s all I really know. I was numb. My body was numb. My brain was numb. I couldn’t feel a damn thing. I didn’t shake it off until I was lookin’ into your eyes after you broke the crystal.”
Emma and Mike just held each other tighter. She looked into his dark brown eyes, so large and soulful and more hypnotic than a hundred crystals. “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she admitted. “It must have been terrible. The rest of the group, Ursula the crystal, and I watched the entire crystal incident on the monitor at the MonkeeCave. We were all scared to death, and Lauren was so upset about Micky.”
“I’m not angry with Mick, now that I understand why and how he was seduced.” Mike sighed. “I might have been too, in his place. He and Lauren only have two kids comin’, and they need money.” Emma heard him swallow hard. “At the time, though, when he was torturin’ me, I’d never been so scared in my entire life. It was worse than that trip to Manchester. I had no idea what was goin’ on, but I knew Micky couldn’t be behind it. He’s not like that. We joke about him being evil, but the only part of him that’s really evil is his libido.”
Emma laughed. Mike smiled and kissed her nose. “I love you so much, Emma Redmer Nesmith.”
She smiled and kissed him back. “I love you too, honey.” A curtain of white dots drifting from the smoky gray sky caught the corner of her eye. “Oooh, honey, look! It’s snowing!”
They turned to the window as one, holding each other. “It’s beautiful, Em. I’ve never seen much snow. We got some in Texas, but not often.”
“It doesn’t snow often here, either, and when it does, it’s usually gone in a few days.” She grinned. “If it’s still around in the morning, we’ll go on the beach and I’ll show you what sand and surf looks like under a blanket of white.”
“I’ll bet it’s just gorgeous, like the moonlight on the prairies in the winter,” he said softly. He nibbled her ear, slowly moving his way down to her neck again. She giggled as his lips brushed against her bare skin. He gently drew her onto the thick, heavy antique bed, rubbing his hands across her plump side. She pulled the quilt around their joined bodies.
She was already naked under the quilt. They’d spent earlier that evening making love, which was a new experience for Emma. The few boyfriends in her life were more interested in friendship or in living their own lives without her. She was certainly never married before, and she’d never dated a man with more sexual or life experience. Mike seemed to understand, though, even when she screamed bloody murder a couple of times. “So that’s why Mom used to wake the neighborhood at night,” she cracked after one particularly loud shriek.
He ran his fingers down to her voluptuous breasts, kissing them lightly, letting his lips move around her nipples. Emma moaned, grateful that the hotel was empty except for the elderly owner who was likely now asleep over his TV in the downstairs parlor. Emma pulled him to her and kissed him again. It was all she could do. She wasn’t comfortable enough with the sexual part of their relationship yet to do much else.
“Darlin’,” Mike said, laying his raven head on her round chest, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we got married. I don’t think I could have stood it much more if I couldn’t, well, do this with you. I’ve wanted you for months now, since that crazy adventure in the fantasy world.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” She ran her fingers through the thick, dark waves. “As I recall, when we first met, you tried to throw Lauren and me out.”
“I didn’t know you two then. I just saw two chicks intruding on our space without askin’.”
“We couldn’t have stayed in that tiny little apartment much longer, and Lauren was crazy about Micky even then. It really was love at first sight with those two.”
Mike’s lips curved into one of his crooked little grins that Emma found irresistible. “It was like that with Pete and Valerie, too. If Pete wasn’t such an innocent, I think he would have drooled over that girl.”
They stayed that way for a little longer, Emma stroking Mike’s hair while his head lay on her breasts, listening to the sound of her breathing. He was just happy to be able to do that. Shelia and Zero almost took that away, too. He cringed, recalling how Shelia had stripped him of his powers and made him into some kind of sexual plaything.
Emma felt his sudden change of mood. Her hands paused on his head, fingers poised over the lock of hair that fell over his eyes. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Just a bad memory.” He took her hand and ran it across his hair again. “Don’t stop doin’ that, darlin’. It feels good.”
Emma frowned and sat up against the mountains of soft, lacy pillowcases. “Mike, we’ve discussed this before. You won’t feel better unless you tell someone what’s going on.”
“Just rememberin’ what Shelia tried to do to us,” he muttered. “Kept us separated. She made me into some kind of little toy for her, and Zero wanted you for his mistress.” It nearly broke Emma’s heart when she saw Mike’s eyes fill with tears. “She had Peter there when he tried to rescue me and read his soul. I was too confused to stop her. She and Zero were about to take our souls when all of you blue-lighted your way upstairs.” He sobbed, something he allowed few people to see. “I...couldn’t stop her from hurting Pete, or from making me have sex with her. She did something to my mind that made me feel powerless, like I depended on her and our love-making.”
Emma wasn’t used to being the one doing the comforting, rather than the other way around. Usually, Mike was comforting her fears and worries and nightmares. “Shh, honey,” she whispered, stroking his hair and neck. “Shhhhh. It’s ok. I at least have an idea of how terrible it was. I can feel you, honey.” She ran her fingers down his tear-stained cheeks. “I know how confused and helpless you felt. I felt it, too, and not just because of our link. Zero and Shelia wanted no possibility of my coming after you again.” She refrained from mentioning Zero’s attempt at seducing her in the study. It would only upset him more.
She rubbed the back of his neck. “You recovered from the nightmares after Manchester, and you’ll recover from this, too. We all will, even Peter. Even Micky.”
He finally sat against the pillows, his reddened eyes looking into her gray ones. “I never want to share another woman’s bed besides yours again, darlin’.”
“Don’t be too sure about that,” she chuckled. “You’ll regret those words the moment we have another one of our little quarrels.”
“Not this time.”
She sighed. “You say that now, but when we’re both screaming at each other at the top of our lungs…”
“I’ll still say them.” He drew her into another kiss. She pulled away and turned over on her side. “Darlin,” he murmured, nibbling her chest, “you’re still worried.”
“I’m just thinking,” she admitted.
“’Bout what?”
“You don’t mind me working, do you? I know some men don’t like their wives to work.”
He ran his fingers gently down her side and pulled her closer to him. “We don’t have much of a choice in the matter. We need all the money we can get if we’re gonna buy the Pad. Everyone’s got to work, no matter what their sex is.”
“How are we going to afford to fix the Pad up, anyway?”
“We keep workin’. I’ve got a few plans of my own, anyway, and I’m sure you do, too.”
She nodded. “I want to eventually sell my stories...someday.”
He pressed his body close to her plump one. “Darlin’, you can’t be afraid to show what you’ve got.”
“I don’t want to bother anyone..."
“Who’s botherin’? You’re a good writer, Em. You’ve just got to have more confidence in yourself and your writin’. There are tons of people who would love to read your stuff.”
She brushed her lips against his neck, then his shoulder and chest. “You really think so?”
“I know so. I’ve seen you beat insane prostitutes, evil wizards, and a female devil, but when it comes to sellin’ your work and your abilities, you’re scared as a little lamb. You just got to remember that your stories are as worthy of being read as anyone’s and even better than most people’s. You’ve got somethin’ to share with the world, darlin’, and you shouldn’t be afraid to show it.”
“What about you? Have you tried to sell any of your songs recently?”
He shook his head slowly. “Yeah. Ain’t had much luck with the record companies. They don’t get my sound. It ain’t quite country and it ain’t quite rock. Thought I’d try the movie studios. Some of the smaller ones have been branchin’ out with their soundtracks, usin’ rock, country, and jazz in addition to the usual stuff.”
She smiled. “I get your sound, honey. I like it because it is different. A lot of people just haven’t adjusted to all the changes in the world and the music industry yet.”
“I wish they would.” Mike pulled his new wife into his arms. “Things are gonna change, Em. Ain’t no stoppin’ that. The guys will probably find their own space, and Micky’s workin’ on that house for Lauren. She’ll be havin’ their kids in a couple of weeks.”
He gently drew his finger across her lips. “Don’t mean all the changes are bad, though. Look at us. We’re the original fairy tale. A few short months ago, we thought we couldn’t stand each other, and now here we are, man and wife.” He drew her into a passionate kiss. “And no devil, male or female, will ever be able to change that.”
She smiled. “You said it, honey!”
The snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the street and beach with a carpet of white and glittering against the windows outside the newlywed couple’s door, almost making a soft “tee hee” whisper as they fluttered past the old, gingerbread-trimmed windows.