Between the alcohol and her orgasm, Tonia was out like a light.
I very carefully gathered her into my arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom. She didn't wake as I cleaned things up and tucked her into bed. I struggled with deciding what was the right thing to do, and finally decided I should stay with her until the alcohol wore off and she woke up. I figured that would only be a couple of hours, and she could send me home after that. I stretched out on the bed beside her and relaxed to wait for her to wake up.
As I lay there looking across the bed at her sleeping form, I couldn't help but wonder where we stood. She had awoken some strong feelings in me that I didn't think I would ever feel again. I was ready to feel love again, and she seemed to harbor some feeling for me. I could certainly tell that she was lusting me, and that was good. She also had a bit of a crazy streak that made me wonder if she really was the right woman for me. My last thought before my eyes drifted shut was about how far away she was on the other side of the bed.
I had intended to only doze off for an hour or so. I had intended to give her space until we could discuss our future.
She was holding my arms tightly around her body when she gasped and shuddered, waking us both. It was still dark in the room, but it felt like more than a couple of hours had passed. I noticed that the shades were pulled tight, and early morning sunlight was trying to peek through. I took a deep breath to wake up and then fought the need to groan in pleasure. The warmth of her scent filled me, and I couldn't wait to take advantage of our nakedness.
She took a shallower breath, and tentatively asked, "Cal?"
For half a moment, I worried that I was about to disappoint her.
"It's John," I said softly. "I wasn't sure if I should stay after I tucked you into bed. I hope you're not upset. We weren't this close together when we fell asleep."
She seemed relieved. Even as I spoke, she hugged my arms tighter around her body, and then she quickly rolled to face me. As I released her, I rolled onto my back. She rolled up into my chest and hugged me again. She let her head rest on my chest.
"Did your head hurt?" she asked. "Mine is killing me."
I wasn't sure why she was asking me that. She knew I hadn't had anything to drink. I decided to try some humor.
"Would you like me to whip up a Bloody Mary for that?"
"Ugh," she moaned. "That's what it feels like, which is why I don't usually drink."
I almost thought up a good rejoinder, but her next words stopped my brain cold.
"I don't think I caught as many details as my mother got from you, but I've got to go write down everything I can remember while it's still fresh. If you don't mind, I'll need a minute to find my laptop, and then I want you to hold me while I type it all up."
"What?" I managed as I tried to put my brain back in gear. "Your laptop is on the table where you left it last night."
"Where I ...?" she gasped as she lifted her head to stare at me. We were both frowning.
"The dining room table?" she clarified. I nodded.
"What...?" she started to ask, but her brain was struggling as well. She took a deep breath and gave out a concerned sigh.
"Come with me," she asked as she rolled out of the bed.
I stood up and waited by the door while she stepped into her closet for a moment. She smirked at me as she returned with a light robe wrapped around her body.
"You probably ought to put something on," she teased.
"Feeling modest?" I asked as I pulled my pants on.
"We have to be careful about what we do downstairs," she answered. "Didn't you notice our view of the lake? As well as we can see out, people can see in, especially at night when the lights are on."
She hadn't been very concerned about that the night before, but I let it go. She took my hand and held me close as we made our way down the stairs. She almost seemed puzzled to see the laptop and notepad on the table. She hugged my arm tight as she made her way over and picked up the pad of paper. She gasped as she started to read, and she quickly slammed the paper face-down on the table.
I understood that she had had a fair amount to drink, but I wasn't so sure about why her own words would upset her so much. The pad of paper had been open to the last notes she had written. All I had been able to read before she hid it was the first words at the top.
"Dear Mother," she had written. I was almost as worried as she was about what her drunken rant had to say.
She turned in my arms and hugged me close again.
"John, will you do me a favor?" she asked into my chest.
I almost shrugged, but I kissed the top of her head instead.
"Anything," I answered.
"Without reading anything, turn to a fresh page," she asked of me. Before I could move, she added, "Open the laptop and minimize any open files, but open a blank text document for me to work on. I don't want any of this to affect my memories before I get them written down."
"Okay," I agreed, but then I had to ask, "Memories?"
She looked up at me with a very worried expression.
"John, will you promise you won't get mad?"
"I was worried that you might be upset that I took the liberty of spending the night," I answered. With a reassuring look, I said, "I don't think there is anything you could do that would make me mad."
She let me give her a light kiss on the lips, but she still looked worried. Although she looked scared, she looked me straight in the eyes as she spoke.
"I believe I'm developing feelings for you, and I would let you spend every night if you'd like. Last night I willingly had sex with another man, because I was mostly certain it was the only way I would get back to you."
"Uh..." I answered intelligently. "You were here with me the whole night. We were only apart when you worked on your report and I made the fried rice cakes."
"Fried...?" she nearly grunted and made an ugly face. "I don't eat fried anything."
I frowned and shrugged. "You wouldn't even wait for them to cool. You were ranting about how much you've always loved them."
Her eyes grew big as she shook her head. Suddenly she noticed the empty glass by the laptop.
"I suppose I drank some of that blue poison that April left in the cabinet."
"Apparently, more than you should have," I ventured.
She sighed loudly, and then closed her eyes and pointed at the laptop.
"Set things up for me please," she asked. A slight smile formed on her lips. "Maybe you should be begging me not to get mad."
For a moment, I was stunned. She was probably right. I quickly did the things she'd asked.
She made me sit on the chair, and then she sat in front of me, just as she had the night before. Before she could start typing, I gently kissed her neck. I managed to refrain from sliding my hands up onto her breasts.
"If you keep doing that," she threatened, "I'm going to drag you upstairs and make you prove to me that you forgive me. I have to finish this first, though."
"Tell me about this crime that I'm supposed to forgive," I teased as I kissed her again. This time, my hands did slide onto her ribs.
"Mmmmm," was her only answer, and her fingers attacked the keyboard.
As we had been talking, she had quickly scribbled down a few notes. She seemed to be looking at them as she furiously typed. Every now and then, she would scribble another note on the paper, but most of her focus was on the typing. I nuzzled her neck for a minute or two, and then looked over her shoulder to see what she was so focused on.
It took her a couple of paragraphs to describe a strange feeling of disorientation that had come over her during one of the orgasms I had given her. The way she described it, it had to have been earlier the evening before we had come down to eat. She described lying on her back and not being able to breathe, and then suddenly she was on her knees struggling to get her face from between a couple of pillows to catch her breath. I almost said something to her, because I don't remember her turning around like that.
As the orgasm had passed, she had pushed up to ask me when I had changed positions, and she realized that something was very wrong. She wasn't in her bedroom here in the house. She was in an apartment that she recognized in the city. The decor wasn't what she recalled, but she knew the apartment and she knew the view out the window. She was shocked even more when she turned and didn't recognize the man that had been fucking her.
The man had been catching his breath after his own orgasm, and he started ranting about how incredible the sex had been, even better than what they normally enjoyed. He had used a single word that had nearly frightened her.
He had called her Angelina.
It had taken her a moment or two to get to her feet, and then she had gone to the bathroom to get a drink of water. She was shocked to see an unfamiliar face looking at her in the mirror.
She typed that it didn't take her long at all to add two and two and come up with an answer.
She was in an apartment that she knows she owns, but the decor had changed and looked somehow futuristic. She had always wanted to have a daughter, and she was going to name her daughter Angelina in honor of her mother. Somehow, she deduced, she had time jumped like I had, and she was in her own daughter's body, in the future.
It was late afternoon, and the man, whose name she didn't know, seemed to be in a hurry to clean up and go somewhere. He had laughed about how the sex had dazed her, but he dragged her into the shower, and then picked out clothes for her to wear. He seemed oblivious as he pulled her along and they went out for dinner. After that, he took her to a club to see a band, and then eventually brought her back home.
Tonia struggled with the words to make sense of all that she had observed. I think she hoped that she could repeat the things her mother had done with the information I had given her, but there was too much to take in, and too little time. She wasn't even sure what to call some of the things she wanted to describe.
One example that she struggled with was the vehicle that they had taken when they left the apartment. When the elevator arrived, it had seats, and the man had drawn her to sit by him. The elevator had dropped to the ground floor, and then the booth had shuttled out of the building. Somehow, it had merged into a line of booths on elevated tracks, and then it made its way to their destination at the restaurant.
Even as she tried to pay attention to the man and take in everything about her surroundings, she wondered about the drive system of the cab. It sounded electric, but there didn't seem to be much room dedicated to batteries or a drive system.
The man had been unsure of how fancy of a coat she would need, so they had each brought casual and fancy coats. As they arrived at the restaurant, the man had seen something that she had missed, but he chose the casual coats. They left the fancy coats in the carriage.
