Work Text:
If you were to ask Barbara Howard how she would describe teaching, these days she'd reply something along the lines of, Mundane . Don't get her wrong, her career is still fulfilling, but the shine of influencing the next generation isn't as bright as it once was. If pressed for a reason, she would venture a guess that mundane was now her descriptor because in comparison, what waited for her at the end of the school day was marvelous.
When that bell rang at 3:15, she got to climb into the passenger seat of Melissa's Cadillac. She got to turn on her heated leather seat, have Melissa's hand rest on the inside of her thigh. She got full control of the music, and got to hear Melissa sing softly between her bursts of road rage ("Just fuckin' pay attention!", “Zip-er merge, zipper merge, zipper people, it ain’t that hard!”, “Does your ma know you drive like that?”, even the ones laced with profanity made her smile).
And once through the threshold of their (a shared pronoun like we, Barbara had used for years and years, but which now means so much more because it included Her) home, she got alone time. She napped, or played piano, or read, or just rested. Where so rarely she was afforded this much time for herself before, now it comes in bounds. She used the time until she heard pots and pans clang from the kitchen, and still she could stay the course of being alone, but usually she didn’t (this was so much different from her first marriage, where being together all. the. time. was assumed; Melissa had learned you cannot pour from any empty cup, wanted to know what Barbara was capable of when hers was full, so she let Barbara come to her)
She got to open a bottle of white (or red if she was feeling a little saucy), and pour them each a glass. She got to terrorize Melissa - wrap her arms around her waist, kiss her neck, distract her almost to the point of burning (the food, they themselves were always burning for one another).
She got to set the table, or the counter, or the coffee table (always with the good china because if things are good, why can’t they be the best?). She got to sit very close, got to share (or steal) bites. She got to lean over and kiss her cheek or move the hair out of her eyes (because there's nothing now she has to be afraid of, no affection too great). She gets to hear Melissa tell a story (she waves her fork around and says something like, "You'll never believe what Janine did," or, "Did you hear about...").
Then she got the opportunity to help with the dishes (if the love languages are real, which Melissa will tell you staunchly they are not, hers is acts of service). She got to park Melissa at the bar and talk back to her (“my book made this fascinating point…”, “I think this weekend we should go to the farmers market!”, “Taylor wants us to babysit next Friday, are we free?”). After their debrief, she got to direct the night.
Then they could take a walk or sit on the porch or snuggle on the couch. They could watch a movie, or listen to an album, or play cards. They could take a bath or a shower. They could (and usually do) eat dessert (before or after eating each other).
And for the grand finale at the end of the night, she gets to turn on their bedside lamps and change into a short, satin nightgown and watch Melissa strip, change into nothing (much to her delight).
She gets to to crawl under the sheets and feel the prickle of Melissa's legs, as another interpersonal housewives relationship is explained to her. She gets to straddle Melissa's thigh and inch closer yet, ("Barb, ya can't crawl inside my skin." Melissa weakly chastises every time, but always pulls her a little closer anyway).
Or she gets to crawl under the sheets and realize much to her delight that Melissa has just taken an everything shower (that Melissa is ready for anything).
Some nights, she shaves her own legs and they just make-out because sometimes just kissing Melissa is enough (it satisfies something in Barbara's inner gay teen, to primp herself for heavy petting).
When neither, or one, or both of them finish, Melissa turns out the lights and they lay, (Barbara on her back, Melissa on her side) lace their fingers together loosely. Sometimes one watches the other, fighting sleep just to take in the sensation of being in a bed with a person you love very much.
And when the morning alarm goes off, Melissa kisses her nose, gets up and brings both their coffees up to bed (where they used to share it in the lounge) and they share as Melissa gets ready (they talk about what they have to do that day) and then Barbara gets ready (melissa does the mini crossword and gloats if she does it in under 60 seconds, or pouts if she needs to ask for help).
Then they pile back into the Cadillac, shoveling bags and papers and to-go mugs in before they climb in themselves. They kiss in the driveway because Melissa (not Barbara like some might think) doesn't want to be seen as soft at school. Sometimes they get carried away, they get caught in traffic. This should irritate them both, but It's actually Barbara's favorite possibility because the parking lot is cleared of staff that way, and they can share one more small kiss before they downshift from the marvelous back into the Mundane