by Karen Woods
Sirens were heard off in the distance. I crossed myself and murmured a brief prayer for whomever the emergency vehicles were rushing.
“‘Licia?” Geoff asked in concern from the bathroom doorway.
“It’s raining,” I said without turning around from the window.
“Since about midnight, sweetheart. It’s been quite a storm. Probably four or more inches of rain. I’m surprised that you slept through it.”
“I would have slept through the Second Coming, as tired as I was. And that pill did its job.”
I turned around. Geoff stood there in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing only a short white terry bathrobe carelessly knotted about his waist.
I looked away from him. Then I looked down at my own light blue floral print cotton quilted robe and matching, Victorian cut, nightgown.
“Quite a contrast.”
Geoff smiled softly at me. “You look adorable.”
“Prim, as contrasted with the ease at which you wear that robe. For you, I would like to be less uptight, Geoff. I would like to be the woman whom you need. I really would. I feel as though I let you down.”
“You can do anything that you want badly enough to do, ‘Licia. I have that much confidence in you. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually,” Geoff said from the doorway. “You are the woman whom I need. And you never let me down.”
I shook my head. “I wish that I could believe that.”
Lightning flashed with a window-shaking roar of thunder.
“Lord that was close,” Geoff said.
I turned around to look out of the window. “Wasn’t it, though? I do love a storm that blows free.”
“You would,” Geoff said in amusement. “The world only sees the controlled Alicia Marie Jenkins. They never see beneath the surface to the woman of deep passions.”
I cleared my throat, but continued to look out the window. “Deep passions,” I echoed.
“You have them, you know,” Geoff said as he moved to stand just behind me.
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
Geoff wrapped his arms around my waist. I leaned back, surrendering myself to the comfort of his embrace.
“I do love you.”
The sirens in the distance grew in numbers.
“Must have been some accident,” I said.
Geoff kissed the top of my head. “Sounds like it, sweetheart. How did you sleep?”
“I don’t remember anything beyond nine fifteen,” I replied as I turned around in his arms and wrapped my own arms around his waist.
“Good. You needed the rest.”
“Yes. I did. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, ‘Licia. I told you that I would take care of you. Why don’t you go back to bed? It’s early. Your first class isn’t until ten. You can afford to give yourself another two hours nap,” Geoff said as he carefully put me away from him.
“No. I don’t think so. There are too many things that I want to get done. But, why don’t you return to bed? You aren’t due in court until when?”
“Afternoon.”
“So, go back to bed. I have some work to do.”
“Work?”
“I’ve had a thought or two about some of my research. I should put them down on paper while they are fresh in my mind.”
“What are you working on, ‘Licia?”
“It’s too complicated, Geoff, to try to distill down into a few words. It links artificial intelligence, graphics, and robotics. It is an interesting first step towards the next generation of industrial robotics.” I shrugged. “Regardless, in a few years, it will be seen as nothing more than a curiosity. But, that is the nature of my field.”
Geoff smiled and shook his head. “A man could almost be jealous of the dedication that you give to your work.”
“Don’t be silly. I would not be jealous of the hours that you spend in your law practice.”
“Won’t you?” Geoff asked as the faint wail of sirens continued to sound in the distance. “In ten years, will you want me at home with you and the children while I am laboring over some detail or other of a complicated case?”
“I can’t imagine you putting anything before our children on a regular basis. I know that work is not something that can be shirked. I hope that I wouldn’t be that mean spirited to resent an occasional necessity.”
“Ah, ‘Licia . . .” Geoff sighed. “What am I to do with you?”
“Try to make a life, I think.”
Geoff laughed. “It will be a good life, ‘Licia. I promise you.”
“I hope so. Once we get past these threats, once we get them dealt with, there is no reason why we shouldn’t have a good life. Now, since we are both up, shall I go fix us some breakfast?”
“I thought that you wanted to work?”
“I’ll put the ideas down in a little while. I’m hungry.”
“Then, we’ll go fix breakfast,” he said. “How about waffles?”
“Sure. Waffles sound good.”
“Let’s go downstairs, then.”
“Ah, Geoff. Would you mind putting on some more clothes?”
“Does this disturb you?”
“Now, what do you think? Of course it bothers me. I’m not totally sexless . . . in spite of my problems.”
Geoff smiled at me. “I can see the pulse beating in your temple. Do you want me, ‘Licia?”
I nodded mutely, hesitantly, in the affirmative.
“Give me the words!”
“I want you,” I whispered, as though it was some sort of shameful secret. “Satisfied?”
“Not hardly,” he moaned as he crushed me to himself. “Alicia . . .”
My hands went to the back of his head. I pulled his head down to mine and kissed him, fiercely.
He returned my caress.
Geoff’s hands loosened the belt of my robe. Then his hands trailed up my ribcage until they cradled my breasts in his hands.
He flicked his thumbs over my nipples. Then he pulled away from me.
“Geoff?” I asked with hurt puzzlement in my voice.
“‘Licia, you aren’t aroused at all,” Geoff said.
I frowned at the flatness of his tone. “Teach me, Geoff. Teach me how to please you.”
“What good would it do, when I obviously don’t please you. I want to give you pleasure, ‘Licia. Not just have you endure my attentions.”
“It’s me, Geoff, not you,” I said. “I’m just not a sensual person.”
“Nonsense! You’re a woman who enjoys her senses. You just don’t want me.”
“That isn’t true. It’s just that I-I remember...flashback—and I get scared...then my body rebels. I can’t help it. It isn’t you. It’s me. In spite of all the therapy, it’s me.”
Geoff placed his hands on my shoulders. Very gently, he kneaded the muscles. “‘Licia. You are so tense. Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to force you into anything.”
“I don’t want to give up on us, Geoff. I want to have a full life with you, not just some kind of marriage in name only. Help me.”
Geoff nodded affirmatively. “Oh baby, we don’t have to rush into this. We’ve got the rest of our lives.”
My lower lip trembled. I felt the tears of frustration and anger well up within my eyes.
“Don’t cry, ‘Licia.”
“I’m not crying,” I denied as a drop of moisture belied my words.
“Of course not.”
“What if I can never be a wife to you?”
“You’ll be my wife the moment that we take our vows.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Look, ‘Licia, when are you supposed to go to the clinic? Next Wednesday?”
“Something like that. I should be ovulating then. That is if my cycle stays regular. Stress sometimes does strange things to a cycle.”
“I promised you a baby. You’ll have our baby. No one, except the doctor and us, has to know that it wasn’t conceived in the traditional way.”
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“This makes me nervous, Geoff.”
“If parenthood didn’t make you nervous, I’d be worried about you,” he told me.
“What if this doesn’t work?”
“Sometimes, it takes several months to conceive. The doctor told us that. Besides, it would be better for everyone concerned if you conceived closer to, or after, the wedding. People are going to be counting the months, anyway.”
I laughed, almost bitterly. “At least, no one is going to have to know the truth about me. Are you sure that you want to marry me? It doesn’t seem fair to you.”
“I’m happy with our bargain. If I am ever less than pleased with it, I’ll tell you. And I expect the same honesty from you.”
“Of course. That goes without saying.”
Geoff kissed me lightly on the forehead.
“Geoff, we could forego the visit to the doctor’s. We could try to do things the old fashioned way.” I felt my face go red.
“Baby, I’d hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you. When we make love, it should be joyous, not something that strikes terror in your heart.”
“Geoff . . .”
“You aren’t ready to make love with me. And I won’t settle for anything less. Besides, you know that we’ll probably never make a baby together in the time-honored fashion. You know that.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“If anyone’s being unfair in this situation, I am. Not you. Your problem is something that can be overcome. My low sperm count is something that we have to live with.”
“At least we know that there probably won’t be any unplanned pregnancies.”
Geoff laughed boldly. “I do love you, warped way of looking at the world and all.”
“Well, I suppose that I should go start breakfast. Waffles? Or something else?”
“‘Licia . . .”
“Not on the menu.”
Geoff lightly stroked my face. “Too bad. Because I want a steady diet of ‘Licia’s tender smiles and sweet laughter throughout my life. I love you, Apple Juice.”
“I wish that I had never told you about the nickname that they saddled me with in graduate school.”
“It fits. Sweet, and tart, with just a hint of acid.”
“Gee, thanks. Should I be touched that you think so highly of me?”
“It would be impossible for me to think any more highly of you. You are my life.”
“Don’t put me on a pedestal, Geoff.”
“I don’t want a woman on a pedestal, ‘Licia. I far prefer a woman of flesh and bone, someone who will laugh and cry with me, someone with whom I can share my thoughts, fears, hopes, dreams, disappointments. Someone very much like you.”
“Geoff . . .”
The sound of the doorbell ringing incessantly shortened the conversation.
“Now, who could that be at this ungodly hour?” Geoff asked.
Before I could answer, the phone began to ring.
“Popular, aren’t you?” I asked as I fought back the panic that came now whenever I heard the telephone ring.
“Wonderful timing. I’ll go see who is at the door.”
“The phone?”
“The machine will pick up in another ring. Why don’t you start that breakfast that you were threatening? Or was that an unfounded threat?”
“What do you want?”
The doorbell rang incessantly.
“Waffles. Anything. I could strangle whoever is at the door,” Geoff replied.
Chapter 13
GEOFF
Phil was at the door. I thought that he looked agitated. Well, tough, I thought, that makes two of us.
“It’s early for a social call. What’s on your mind?”
“Geoff. God, I hate to have to tell you this,” Phil said. “It’s Al.”
“What about ‘Licia?”
“I’m so sorry, Geoff . . .”
“Hold it, Phil. Get a grip. Now, tell me what you are talking about.”
“Al’s house. There was an explosion and fire about a half-hour ago. The house is nothing but a pile of smoldering rubble.”
“Oh God . . .”
“The fire department is there now. They are digging through the rubble to find her.”
“Waste of time. ‘Licia’s in the kitchen.”
The relief on Phil’s face was easily read. “Thank God.”
“Come on. She ought to hear this from you.”
“Let me call this in, first. There is a crew busting their butts. They ought to know that there isn’t a person trapped inside.”
‘Licia was breaking and separating eggs when Phil and I walked into the kitchen. “Waffles will be ready in about fifteen minutes, Geoff,” she announced without turning around.
“You probably should sit down, ‘Licia.”
‘Licia turned around. The puzzlement on her face became genuine concern when she saw Phil standing there.
“What’s happened? You haven’t called around for your health. What’s wrong now? Have they found Sarah? What is it? Tell me!”
“Al, just calm down.”
‘Licia hastily crossed herself after Phil told her the story. “Thank God for guardian angels.”
Phil nodded. “We feared that you might have been buried under the rubble.”
‘Licia’s face lost the rest of its color. “Is it known what caused the explosion?”
“Not yet. But, the state fire marshal’s office will be investigating the incident.”
“I’ll call my insurance broker. Two claims in two days. The company is going to love me,” ‘Licia said as she fought tears. I knew what that little house meant to her. It had been a charming little place. Originally, the house had been a “granny house,” a secondary house to which the older generation had retired when the kids had grown, married, and started a family of their own. And ‘Licia had put her individual stamp on it. Yes, I knew what that place had meant to her.
“Just be thankful that you are able to make the claim,” Phil said. “If you had been home last night, you wouldn’t have been able to make the claim.”
“Yeah. I do realize that. Geoff, will you put the eggs away, please? Excuse me, I need to get dressed. I need to see what is left of my house.”
Phil looked at ‘Licia’s rapidly departing back. She had almost run to the back steps. “I’ll see you later. We’ll need to question Al about the explosion.”
“It was arson. Wasn’t it?”
“My money would ride on this being deliberate.”
“‘Licia’s going to have a hard time in dealing with that.”
“The department is understaffed as it is, we can’t stretch resources to give Al protection. But, Geoff, she needs someone watching out for her.”
“I understand. Private protection might be the best way to go. Although, I can’t see ‘Licia sitting still for the presence of several bodyguards in her life. Still, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yeah. I can understand that. I had my doubts before. The person behind this is playing for keeps.”
“I’ll take care of her.”
Phil smiled at me. “If anyone can, you can.”
“The house is a total loss?” I hated asking that question.
“It’s a pile of burning rubble.”
The street was blocked off by police cars parked across the road at both ends of the block. The white van from the State Police Crime Services bureau was parked next to the police cars.
It was still early. The rain had stopped. Yet, from the look of the sky, that was, at best, a temporary cessation. Crowds were gathered at each roadblock, trying to get a view of the disaster.
A camera crew from the TV station was present.
“I have no comment suitable for publication,” ‘Licia said as the microphone was placed in her face. She pushed up the dark glasses she wore. A plain deep blue scarf was tied over her hair.
“Professor Jenkins,” the young, black, woman reporter, Lori Blakely, asked. “I understand that you have had quite a
string of bad luck of late.”
‘Licia shook her head. “I don’t believe in luck, Miss Blakely. Goodbye.”
“Professor Jenkins, why weren’t you at home?” Lori continued.
‘Licia smiled slightly, painfully. She removed the glasses with her left hand. Then she looked directly at Lori Blakely. “My guardian angel was sitting on my shoulder,” she said patting her left shoulder with her right hand. “And I pray God that the angel remains there. Goodbye, Miss Blakely.”
“Don’t I know you?” Lori Blakely asked firmly. “You look familiar to me. You’ve been on television before.”
‘Licia placed the glasses back on her face. She turned and walked away.
“Damn the media,” I said as we walked towards where her house had been.
“Get ready for the whole story to come out, Geoff.”
“It doesn’t worry you?”
“There’s nothing that I can do about it,” ‘Licia said in a resigned tone. “If you are embarrassed by my past, I’m sorry. If you want to be released from your promise to marry me, I will understand.”
“We both have pasts, sweetheart. We both have lived through our share of Hell. Mine was in two tours of ‘Nam. Yours came from LA. Both made us stronger. Both gave us our fare share of midnight regrets. We both just have had to pick ourselves up and move on.”
She stood back from the pile of smoldering debris where her house had been. Bits and pieces of her house were scattered all over the neighborhood. Apparently, there had been quite an explosion. If not for the rain, the damage to the neighboring homes might have been much more severe when blazing bits had been blown away from the house. As it was, the houses on both sides of hers were missing windows.
A shudder ran through her. I tightened my arm around her shoulder, holding her up when her legs might have gone out from under her.
“There isn’t much left, is there?” she asked.
“No, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Shall we avoid Miss Blakely?”
“That would give her too much satisfaction,” ‘Licia replied grimly. “I try never to give that type too much satisfaction.”
Once we had returned to my car, ‘Licia began to weep silently.