My Zombie Honeymoon: Love in the Age of Zombies Book One (13 page)

Michelle dropped her arms to her sides with a sigh then giggled. I could tell she was feeling pretty woozy. “Says the guy whose radio has yellow bunnies and pink kitties on it,”

“Hey, those are baby monitors! I didn’t choose how they looked!”

She was a tad unsteady on her feet as she walked over to me. “I’m gonna get in bed, but would you stay here an’ talk t’me for a few minutes?” As she said this, she sidled up next to me and put her arm around me, pressing her breasts against me. “I don’t wanna have bad dreams tonight. I wanna have sweet dreams.” Her voice now a whisper, she raised up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against my cheek.

“Michelle . . .” I said, trying my best to protest.

Ignoring me, Michelle whispered, “I wanna dream ‘bout
you
.” She put her finger tips on my chin and turned my head to face her. Her lips met mine. I gave in. Our lips parted and I felt her tongue slip in. Hesitatingly, my tongue met hers. I pulled her body close, relishing the feeling of her breasts and hard nipples, holding her abdomen against mine. My hardness pressed against her body. We kissed for a few seconds before she abruptly pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Kevin,” she said drunkenly. “Sometimes alcohol make s’me forget my social grazes.” She was making an attempt to articulate, but it was obvious she was struggling.

She giggled and ungraciously plunked down on the air mattress. “Whoopsie! I lost my balance!” I helped her as she tried to get under the sheet and blanket, then pulled them over her. Essentially, I tucked her in. Her eyes were drooping. She was fading fast.

“Thanks, Kev-Kev,” she mumbled, “I think you are so . . . so . . .” And that was the end of that. She was fast asleep.

It was still somewhat early, probably about 9:00, but I decided to call it a night. I went into the bedroom, turned off the light, and in the newly-discovered romantic glow of the bedroom walls, lay miserably frustrated, staring at the ceiling while the walls slowly faded.

November 25
th

It’s been a couple of days since she moved in. I woke up early the next morning and just lay there in the dark, puzzling over what had happened. I know she was intoxicated, but even so, she came on to me big time. I get the feeling that had I wanted to (and she hadn’t fallen asleep), I could have had sex with her. Obviously I don’t have much resistance. Who would? She’s a beautiful, smart, engaging woman with large breasts. If she had gone so far as to undo one more button on her pajama top, I would have been unable to resist.

But as I lay there, staring at the ceiling I couldn’t see and the very faintly glowing walls, the events of the night started to bother me. I agreed she could move in as a way to ensure security for both of us and as a helper for me. I didn’t sign up to have a girlfriend, or even a friend with benefits. I’ve been around long enough to know that sex usually creates more problems than it solves. Lovers break up. Lovers have huge fights. Lovers don’t last. Friends do. If I were to allow myself to get into a casual sexual relationship with her, it could ruin everything. It would certainly
change
everything. Even if she said,
Hey, no strings attached, room-mates with benefits, you know?!
I don’t think I’d believe her. I’ve been in that situation before.
You have needs, I have needs . . . let’s meet each other’s needs. We don’t need to be in love.
That’s what they say. But in no time, it turns into
Why don’t you ever say you love me?
Ugh. The whole situation brings up bad memories of inadvisable decisions.

Those were my thoughts as I lay there, wondering how to proceed. I must have dozed off, because I awoke to the sound of dishes rattling in the kitchen. I got dressed and went into the living room. Michelle must have been up for a while—the bed was already deflated and I could smell fresh coffee. The dishes were washed and in the drying rack. As I walked into the kitchen, she looked up with a big sunny smile.

“Good morning! I hope you don’t mind me making coffee!”

“Absolutely not! I’m just glad to see you’re none the worse for wear! The combo of Xanax and beer really did a number on you!” I said, making every attempt to keep my eyes above her neck. She was still wearing the pink camo pj’s, and the top two buttons were still undone.

“I can’t believe I took Xanax and drank beer! Normally I would have known better, but yesterday I wasn’t thinking straight. I still can’t believe I was stupid enough to get attacked. If not for you, I’d be dead!” she said, “or worse!”

“So-o-o . . . tell me . . . how much of last night do you remember? After we got inside, I mean.” If she remembered getting tipsy and coming on to me, but pretended not to, it meant she regretted it. If she didn’t remember, all the better.

“I remember you made us dinner, and I drank a few beers, and you showed me how your plant stuff works,” she said, “things get kind of fuzzy after that. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid!”

“We made wild, passionate love until the cock crowed,” I lied.

Her eyes grew wide with mock astonishment. “It
crows
?! Wow!”

“As in
cock-a-doodle-doo,
” I said.

“Oh, that’s too bad, I’ve never seen a cock
crow
,” she teased. “You know, where I’m from, once a man has sex with a woman, she’s considered his wife, my dear new hubby!” she said, as she wiped off the counter.

“Well, isn’t that interesting!” I said, “Up here in Michigan, if a woman willingly has sex with a man she’s not married to, she becomes his slave. Now get me a cup of coffee,” I said, snapping my fingers.

“Yes, master,” Michelle said demurely, pouring me a cup. “I don’t know how you like it—strong or weak, cream or sugar. I like it on the strong side and black as sin.”

I took a sip. It was good. It was especially good because I didn’t make it.

“Seriously,” she said, “I really am fuzzy about last night. Sometimes alcohol lowers my inhibitions, so if I said or did anything that made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” As she said this, her eyes were downcast and there was a beautiful blush of pink on her pretty cheeks. “And I don’t think I ever told you last night how wonderful it felt to take a hot shower. Despite the zombie guts. Ugh. All I’ve had for weeks is cold water. Given the circumstances, I think it really helped me feel human again to wash it all off and start to get re-centered.”

I still wasn’t sure if she remembered what happened or not, but I decided it didn’t matter. It was a one-time accident. Hell, sometimes male and female friends slip up and have sex when they shouldn’t. It doesn’t have to ruin everything.

“No problem. The next time I want to make wild, passionate love to you all night I’ll just have to remember to slip you a Xanax and a couple of beers. But I’m kind of insulted you don’t remember how good I was,” I joked. “In the meantime, I’d like your help in the plant room today.”

“Do you have anything we can eat for breakfast first?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, and handed her a protein bar. “Enjoy it. I could make you some instant eggs, but they’re not very good and I’m trying to save them. Otherwise, you could have dry cereal with instant milk. Or I could make some oatmeal. Unless you want canned vegetables.”

She looked at the protein bar and sighed. “I guess the days of bacon, eggs sunny-side up and toast are gone.”

“Like my dad used to say, if we had some bacon, we could have some bacon and eggs, if we had some eggs!”

“Maybe I’d like these protein bars better if they tasted like bacon and eggs. Or like toast and jelly. But having fake chocolate and caramel for breakfast just doesn’t cut it,” she said. “not that I’m complaining—I’ll take what I can get. Except oatmeal. I never have liked it. But I do miss a hot breakfast. And the stars. I miss lying on my back and staring up at the stars. Seeing an occasional meteor. I miss the night sky.”

“There’s so much we miss we haven’t even thought of yet,” I said. “You know what I really miss?”

“Having wild passionate sex all night?” She said, chewing another bite of her protein bar.

“No, we had that last night, remember?”

“Damn. No, I don’t remember. I wish I did. I hate to have missed all the fun.”

“You won’t believe me, but I miss cutting the grass. To spend an hour walking around in circles, pushing a mower. The smell of fresh cut grass mixed with the smell of lawnmower exhaust. I really miss that.

“All of the mundane things we took for granted but now long for. But I don’t miss shoveling the sidewalk.”

“I miss laying out in the back yard, topless, a bottle of wine at my side and a good, sexy novel lying next to me as I doze off in the sun.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Absolutely. There’s nothing better than feeling the sun baking your skin a golden brown. And a glass of wine to take the edge off whatever you’re trying not to think about.”

I sat in silence, trying unsuccessfully to stop focusing on the image she planted in my brain. Of her laying out topless in the sun, her breasts tanning and her areola turning a dun shade of brown right outside my upper bedroom window. She was a girl after my own heart. I forced my thoughts back to the present. “Now that you’ve finished your breakfast buffet, bring your cup of coffee into the growing room and we’ll get started.”

“Yes, master,” she quipped. Then she asked what we were going to do. I explained how I needed to set up another tray and lights. The germination rate of the kale and lettuce seeds was higher than I expected, and I wanted to get another crop going. I’m not wild about kale, but it’s much higher in nutritional content than lettuce. It has a good amount of zinc, niacin, potassium, protein, and fiber. I placed three twenty gallon reservoirs on the table. “What all
do
you have to eat?” she asked.

“Everything we could want short term. Canned meat, tuna, canned vegetables and soups, dried fruits and nuts, crackers, peanut butter, powdered milk, protein powder . . . instant mashed potatoes, spaghetti sauce and noodles, MREs, boxed meals, ramen noodles . . . I even have some yeast if I want to make some bread.”

“All the comforts of home,” she said, “but what I really miss is a fresh, hot pizza, delivered to my door. A pizza with the works.”

“With plenty of hot sauce . . .” I added. My mouth was watering.

I made a few trips for water and started filling the tubs. “I think we should limit our talk of food we miss. It’s only going to make us miss it more. Although I could go for some triple-chocolate ice-cream.”

“With caramel topping,” she sighed. “Ah well. I’m very grateful for what you have, Kevin. You really planned well. I’m impressed. You’re not as dumb as you look.”

“I couldn’t be and live,” I added. We both laughed at my lame joke. I finished adding water to the tubs but left the third one empty, as I wouldn’t need it for at least a month. “See those sheets of foam with holes in them? Would you put one each in these tubs?”

“Yes, master,” she joked as she grabbed the foam sheets. Once the rafts were sitting on top of the water, I arranged the containers of fertilizer and the measuring cups.

“Now here’s what we do. This first tray gets a quarter cup each of these two bottles. It’s two-stage fertilizer. Then add a tablespoon of this little bottle—it’s root stimulant. We add the airstone, allow it to settle down for a few hours, then we check the pH. Plants like their pH to be just right.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t always need to know why I’m doing, I just do what I’m told,” she said

“I noticed that last night,” I joked.

“Hey! No fair! I can’t defend myself if I don’t know what I did or didn’t do!”

“You made me promise last night not to talk about it,” I offered.

“You’re making that up! Besides, I know you’re joking because when I woke up I was still wearing my pajamas. I doubt I’d have them on if we’d gotten wild like you claim.”

“Ah, but if you look close, you’ll notice you put them on inside out!”

She looked at me skeptically then took a quick glance at her pajama bottoms. Then she came over and slugged me on the shoulder. ”You jerk! You almost had me believing you,” she said as I laughed hard. She couldn’t help but smile herself. I attached the hose to the bubbler and airstone and placed it in the tub. It immediately started bubbling with the hissing sound I’ve come to know so well.

“Let’s finish up putting those sprouts in the neti pots, and put the neti pots in the holes in the raft,” I directed. We spent about a half hour taking care of the plants, and then I showed her how to check the mature plants to make sure there weren’t any dead leaves to trim.

“You have to keep the dead leaves trimmed, or they can start to rot and spread diseases.” I told her. We checked all the plants, even though I’d just done it yesterday.

By the time we finished, it was well into the afternoon. I pointed out that she was still in her pajamas. I hadn’t gone out of my way to tell her earlier, as she looked so damn cute and sexy in them. Every opportunity I had, I took a quick glance at her bust and her ass. She caught me looking a few times but didn’t say anything, thank goodness.

When I pointed out that she was still wearing jammies in the afternoon, she smiled and said, “I thought you’d never notice!” She hurried into the living room and pulled some clothes out of her boxes, then disappeared into the bathroom after asking if she could take a shower. We haven’t had much sun over the past few days, and the batteries are getting low, so I told her of course she could, and she didn’t need to ask, but to make it a short one.