California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade, chapter 6
"Camera men have retired home for the night, friends have sauntered to their domain, kids are sound in bed—and we're left alone once more." Billie smiled in the doorway, studying Adrienne's silhouette against the television—her back facing him. He frowned slightly when she did not respond and wandered curiously to her subtly body, tensing slightly when he heard her sniff.
"You crying, honey?" he whispered crawling up next to her on the bed and taking her face into his hands. He studied her half lidded eyes sympathetically before slowly leading her to his chest where he eased her to rest against him—her arms embracing his midriff. She nodded into his shirt, a natural stimulate for Billie to start stroking her hair soothingly. "Baby, the cameras aren't going to be around here too much longer . . . this is all a good excuse to bring this family together again. We can leave the house more often to escape the public eye... as ironic as that sounds. And Jakob? Jakob is going to be just fine. We both kind of knew he was a bit on the gay side—and I'm sure Joey and Natasha really don't have a sex life. And I know we've been trying--"
"Billie?" Adrienne cut him off weakly, looking up at him in half amusement, "I was crying because of this. . ." She directed her gazed back to the television. Billie followed her train of sight to see Steve Irwin's wife wretchedly sobbing on a wicker chair.
"Oh." Billie laughed, playfully pushing the distraught Adrienne off him and crossing his arms assertively. "I knew you had a crush on him."
Adrienne cast him a "you're definitely going to hell," glare. "Billie, he's dead. You can't make fun of the dead."
"Why not? We make fun of Chuck Norris all the time—I don't see God spiting bombs of destruction upon us all"
"Chuck Norris isn't dead."
"Exactly."
Adrienne stared at him a moment, desperately pleading for an insight on his tactics.
"Are you attempting to get laid?"
Billie's face immediately contorted to defense mechanism mode but before Billie could speak she continued.
"Because I'm still pretty upset about this whole reality TV business."
"Yea, I thought so. But I figured since I made it this far in the evening without being shunned to the couch—"
"Oh thanks for reminding me," Adrienne smirked crawling under the covers—pulling him in after so he wouldn't take her seriously about the couch deal. Billie silently obeyed—going through the nightly routine of finding a comfortable sleeping position. This time his nose somehow ended up in the crook of Adrienne's neck. She didn't seem to mind his intimate arrangement and resorted to lightly twirling his hair between her fingers absent mindedly.
"Ya know?" Billie sighed after a few moments of silence, turning his head to look at Adrienne, "I think we did well."
"Hmm?" Adrienne glanced down at the Billie with half lidded eyes, her fingers lacing in and out of his hair in a soothing matter as if recruiting sleep to his wary conscious.
"With the kids," he says delicately, resting his head back down on her chest, "Considering... well... the obvious."
Adrienne chuckled lightly, reaching over Billie to switch the lamp off—leaving them to complete darkness. "Yea, I agree. Although one is gay and the other is getting overly friendly at the ripe age of 18."
"He's 18, dear." Billie laughed in amusement, receiving his wife back into his arms—a blind kiss landing somewhere near her cheek. "You remember what I was doing at 18?"
"Getting frisky with 20 year olds," Adrienne responded in a disapproving laugh. "You do know you were working way out of your league."
"I realize. I realized then. But I took the risk, and look how it turned out." Billie concluded, closing his eyes in eased contentment, digging his nose into the mess of curls before him.
"You are the farceur of romantics," she responded tenderly.
"Yea, I love you too."
"You crying, honey?" he whispered crawling up next to her on the bed and taking her face into his hands. He studied her half lidded eyes sympathetically before slowly leading her to his chest where he eased her to rest against him—her arms embracing his midriff. She nodded into his shirt, a natural stimulate for Billie to start stroking her hair soothingly. "Baby, the cameras aren't going to be around here too much longer . . . this is all a good excuse to bring this family together again. We can leave the house more often to escape the public eye... as ironic as that sounds. And Jakob? Jakob is going to be just fine. We both kind of knew he was a bit on the gay side—and I'm sure Joey and Natasha really don't have a sex life. And I know we've been trying--"
"Billie?" Adrienne cut him off weakly, looking up at him in half amusement, "I was crying because of this. . ." She directed her gazed back to the television. Billie followed her train of sight to see Steve Irwin's wife wretchedly sobbing on a wicker chair.
"Oh." Billie laughed, playfully pushing the distraught Adrienne off him and crossing his arms assertively. "I knew you had a crush on him."
Adrienne cast him a "you're definitely going to hell," glare. "Billie, he's dead. You can't make fun of the dead."
"Why not? We make fun of Chuck Norris all the time—I don't see God spiting bombs of destruction upon us all"
"Chuck Norris isn't dead."
"Exactly."
Adrienne stared at him a moment, desperately pleading for an insight on his tactics.
"Are you attempting to get laid?"
Billie's face immediately contorted to defense mechanism mode but before Billie could speak she continued.
"Because I'm still pretty upset about this whole reality TV business."
"Yea, I thought so. But I figured since I made it this far in the evening without being shunned to the couch—"
"Oh thanks for reminding me," Adrienne smirked crawling under the covers—pulling him in after so he wouldn't take her seriously about the couch deal. Billie silently obeyed—going through the nightly routine of finding a comfortable sleeping position. This time his nose somehow ended up in the crook of Adrienne's neck. She didn't seem to mind his intimate arrangement and resorted to lightly twirling his hair between her fingers absent mindedly.
"Ya know?" Billie sighed after a few moments of silence, turning his head to look at Adrienne, "I think we did well."
"Hmm?" Adrienne glanced down at the Billie with half lidded eyes, her fingers lacing in and out of his hair in a soothing matter as if recruiting sleep to his wary conscious.
"With the kids," he says delicately, resting his head back down on her chest, "Considering... well... the obvious."
Adrienne chuckled lightly, reaching over Billie to switch the lamp off—leaving them to complete darkness. "Yea, I agree. Although one is gay and the other is getting overly friendly at the ripe age of 18."
"He's 18, dear." Billie laughed in amusement, receiving his wife back into his arms—a blind kiss landing somewhere near her cheek. "You remember what I was doing at 18?"
"Getting frisky with 20 year olds," Adrienne responded in a disapproving laugh. "You do know you were working way out of your league."
"I realize. I realized then. But I took the risk, and look how it turned out." Billie concluded, closing his eyes in eased contentment, digging his nose into the mess of curls before him.
"You are the farceur of romantics," she responded tenderly.
"Yea, I love you too."
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