by P. G. Forte
The day had turned colder. There was a stiff breeze blowing in off the water and the sea looked like one, big, undulating piece of smoked glass. Ryan watched the clouds as they scuttered across the sky. It was going to rain again. He just hoped he’d be able to move before then. But he had visions of himself getting stuck here like this. Of Siobhan finally stumbling across him – hours or days later – as helpless as the Tin Man after he’d rusted. But without any of the serenity an empty chest would have afforded him.
“Oh, man,” he groaned aloud. He shook his head wearily. He couldn’t believe the way she’d gotten to him. It wasn’t supposed to have been like this at all. He’d thought, going in, that they could just take this affair easy. Keep things light between them. Light and simple and uncomplicated. But it sure didn’t seem to be working out like that, now did it?
I care too much about you, he’d told her.
He’d been hit right then, even as the words were leaving his mouth, with the truth of what he was saying. Oh, he cared, all right. He cared way too much for anything good to come of it.
A fine rain began to fall and he got to his feet. His leg was so stiff he was surprised it didn’t squeak when he moved it. He was relieved to find that he could move it at all.
He tugged at the dog’s leash. “Come on, Toto. Let’s go home.”
Toto, hmm? He thought about it, as he walked. But nah, whatever else she was, she certainly wasn’t a Toto.
Before he made it home, the rain turned to hail. Hard, cold crystals that fell from the brushed aluminum sky to make the path he had to walk along more slick. He hunched his shoulders against the sting of ice on his neck. But still he felt the chill of water as it trickled beneath his sweater and down his back. He hadn’t planned for this weather when he’d gotten dressed today. But then, he hadn’t planned for a lot of the things that had happened to him lately. And when his thoughts turned automatically back to Siobhan, he wasn’t even slightly surprised.
It would be so much easier to just walk away – she’d practically begged him to do it, after all. And he should have, too. But he couldn’t. It was like he told her, he cared too much to walk away from this now. But somehow – somehow, some way, sometime soon – he’d have to find a way to cool things down between them.
For both their sakes.
* * * *
The phone rang in the middle of the night, startling Sam out of a sound sleep. He heard Marsha mutter something, and then her hand was brushing across his face as she fumbled in the dark for the phone. He handed it to her and sat up, pushing the hair back out of his face. Then he switched on the light, as he listened to her conversation.
“That was Jesse, I take it?” he asked, when Marsha tossed the phone down onto the bed with a tired sigh.
“Sherry’s gone into labor. I have to go get the boys.”
As she swung her feet to the floor he put out a hand to stop her. “What else did he say?”
She slanted him a brief, exasperated glance. “Oh, not too much. He just suggested I should maybe ask you to pick them up. Because I don’t like to drive at night.” She smiled wryly, “It’s sweet, isn’t it? How solicitous of my feelings they’ve become ever since you bought that car.”
“Uh-huh. It’s real touching.” Sam studied her for a moment, trying to gauge her mood. And then he shrugged. “So, I’ll get them, then.”
She frowned. “No, Sam, that’s not—”
“They make a good point, angel. You don’t like to drive at night.”
“Yeah, and how lame is that? I can’t keep letting some stupid phobia stop me from doing what I have to do.”
“You don’t let it stop you, and you know it. But it does frighten you, all the same. And tonight you really don’t have to go. I’m here, and I’m more than willing to pick them up. Besides, what else am I going to do – just sit here by myself and wait for you to get back?”
“Well, actually…” She cast a reluctant look his way, and his heart sank.
“Marsha, have a heart. It’s the middle of the night. You’re not really gonna kick me out of here now are you?” He gazed at her, appealingly, hurrying on when she hesitated. “Come on, they were okay with it last week, weren’t they, when I slept on the couch?”
“I guess.”
“Good.” He kissed her quickly and got out of bed. Making what in Sales was referred to as an assumption close – taking her lack of a firm refusal as a positive response. “I’ll go get them now, and when I come back we can talk about it some more, if you want. Or,” he added, only half joking, “You could just think of some way to thank me, and we’ll leave the talking for the morning.”
* * * *
Sam was feeling almost euphoric with his small success as he pulled up in front of the boys’ father’s house a short while later. He’d planned on going to the door, but the boys were out of the house and down the drive before he’d even had a chance to cut the engine.
“How’s it going, guys?” he asked as they got in the car. Frank in the back seat, and Jesse in the front—for once, without an argument about who was sitting where.
“Hi, Sam.” Jesse smiled with his usual effervescence. “How’d you get here so fast?”
“Did you think it was especially fast?” he asked, as he pulled away from the curb. “I don’t know... I left as soon as we got your call, but—”
“Shut up, Jess,” Frank muttered from the back seat.
“No,” Jesse retorted. “Why should I—”
“So, a new baby, huh?” Sam interjected quickly. “Are you guys excited yet about being big brothers?
“Nothing new about it for me.” Frank sounded smug. “I’ve always been one.”
“Oh, yeah, by a whole four minutes. Big whoop,” Jesse grumbled, and then he turned towards Sam. “What do think it’s gonna be, boy or girl?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your mother. She could probably tell you.”
“It’s a girl,” Frank murmured sleepily.
Jesse glanced over the seat. “Oh, how would you know that? Dad thinks it’s gonna be a boy.”
Frank yawned. “I know. That’s why Sherry never told him.”
“You really think she knows?” Sam asked, intrigued despite himself.
Frank yawned again. “Uh-huh. They did a test. Months ago, remember that, Jess? And they were supposed to find out then. But all of a sudden Sherry says she’s changed her mind – she wants to be surprised. I figure she’s lying. I think they told her, but she doesn’t want anyone else to know.”
Jesse chuckled. “Boy, is Dad ever gonna be pissed. Y’think he’ll leave her?”
“Jesse, your father’s not going to leave his wife just because their baby is a girl,” Sam answered, pretty sure that the guy couldn’t be that much of a jerk.
“I dunno, he might,” Frank said. “He really wants another boy. That’s why he left Mom; because she couldn’t have any more babies.”
Sam smiled into the rear view mirror. “You mean the two of you weren’t enough for him? That’s pretty hard to believe.”
“Naw, it’s because she didn’t name one of us after him,” Jesse answered, not joking at all. “That’s what he’s really pissed about.”
Sam couldn’t think of any answer for that one. After a moment Jesse continued. “You’re not gonna have to drive all the way back out to the canyon tonight, are you?” he asked. “Think Mom’ll let you—”
“Shit, Jesse, don’t you ever stop talking?” Frank complained, as he slumped on the seat. “Shut up, huh? I’m trying to sleep.”
“Close your eyes, Frank,” Sam ordered, as Jesse shook his head in disgust. “I’ll have you both home soon.”
“Good,” came the mumbled reply. “Just... don’t talk anymore, ‘kay?”
Sam drove them back through the rain slick streets in silence, pulling his car back onto the still-dry patch of driveway, over which it had been parked all night. Marsha met them at the door in her robe. Frank paused only briefly to greet his m
other on his way to his room. Jesse, still wide-awake, seemed ready to linger.
“Come on, Jesse.” Marsha urged him, as Sam hung his coat up and kicked off his boots. “It’s late. Go to bed. You have to get up in a few hours for school.”
“Can’t we just stay home?” Jesse asked, hopefully. “It’s only Monday. We never do anything important on Mondays.”
“No, of course you can’t.”
Sam sighed in disappointment when he noticed the pillows and blankets piled neatly on the couch. Apparently, she’d decided on a compromise. Too bad. He’d had plans for the next few hours. And for tomorrow morning, as well. He’d already set his laptop up on the dining room table. After he checked out what the market was doing at the open, he figured he could slip back into bed with her and start the week off properly. Now, he guessed that would have to wait until after the boys had left for school.
“Go to sleep, Jesse,” Marsha repeated.
Sam was surprised by the tension in her voice. When he turned to her the look on her face, so obviously concerned for his reaction, surprised him even more. Did she think he’d get angry and leave? Was she worried he’d make a scene in front of the boys? She should know better than that.
He gave her a smile to ease her worries and a brief hug. “So this is how you’re gonna thank me for doing you a favor, huh?” he teased as he tilted her face up and kissed her. Briefly, because Jesse was still standing right there, in the archway that separated the living and dining rooms.
“Why don’t you go to bed now, Jess,” he said as he began spreading the blankets out on the couch. “And let the rest of us get some sleep, as well. Maybe, if you don’t give your mother a hard time, she’ll let me take you guys to school in the morning.”
“What?” Jesse turned to face him, a puzzled, slightly stunned expression on his face, as if exhaustion had suddenly caught up with him.
“Jess?” Marsha’s voice sounded worried. “Are you okay? What’s the matter, hon?”
But Jesse merely glanced at her, still frowning, and shook his head. “N-nothing,” he stammered. An instant later he’d shot out of the room and down the hall.
“What was that all about?” Sam asked, staring after him.
Marsha shrugged. “I’m not sure. Something must’ve— did everything go okay on the way here?”
“Yeah, sure it did.” He sneaked a peek down the hallway, to make sure it was clear. Then he pulled her into his arms for a real kiss. “Everything went fine.”
“Are you sure? Because—”
I’m sure,” he murmured, setting his lips firmly on hers.
“I’m sorry about this,” she said, a few minutes later, gesturing at the couch.
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, reassuringly. “But listen, I’m serious about that offer I just made. Why don’t you plan on sleeping in, tomorrow morning? I’ll take the boys to school, and then I’ll come back here and, you know, make sure you get to work on time.”
“Hmm,” she murmured as the shadows left her green eyes. She gazed at him speculatively. “Why do I get the feeling that your plan is gonna make me more late for work than usual?”
“Well, gee, angel, I don’t know.” He couldn’t help but tease. “You think maybe it’s ‘cause you’re psychic?”
“Yeah,” she replied, leaning in to kiss him again. “That could be it.”
Back to Top
* * * *
Chapter Seventeen
* * * *
The man was happy as he headed for home Monday night. Very happy. The radio was set to the local oldies station, and Orleans’ biggest hit from the late seventies was playing. He cranked the sound up louder. “Still the one,” he murmured gleefully, “That’s you, Siobhan. And we’re still havin’ fun, aren’t we, sweetie? Eh? Aren’t we?”
Well, he sure was, anyway.
He couldn’t believe the stupid bitch still thought she could get away from him. When would she ever learn? How could she believe for even one instant that he’d let her go? She should know better than that. But damn, she was dumb.
While he, on the other hand was a total fucking genius.
Look at what he’d managed to accomplish tonight – without any of her stupid training, or any of the experience she was always so damn proud of – with nothing at all beyond a little boiling water and some bleach.
God, he was brilliant. Brilliant!
She’d never know what hit her. Never in a billion years, would she figure this one out. She’d be hours repairing the damage he’d caused. Hours and hours – and it would all be for nothing.
That thought alone made him laugh so hard he almost had to stop at the side of the road, while he pulled himself back together. Damn, he just wished there was someone he could tell.
Still chuckling with irrepressible glee, he watched the cars that passed, watched the shifting lights in his rear view mirror, confident that no one would notice or remember seeing him tonight. No one ever noticed him – not unless he wanted them to. Like everything else in his life, when he’d decided to become a part-time ghost, he’d done it exceedingly well. So well, that no one had ever suspected a thing. No one ever would, either.
And why? Because he was a genius! That’s why.
It was lonely, being a genius, though. He had no one to share his triumphs with. No one to notice how brilliant he was, how fucking unbelievably smart. That was something else she’d done to him. Another way she’d cut him off. Something else she’d have to pay for.
And pay, and pay and keep on paying. Like one of those damn bunny rabbits in the battery commercials.
She’d pay for her mistakes, all right. Over and over again. Just as long as he wanted her to.
* * * *
“You should have left a light on for yourself,” Ryan commented when they arrived back at the cottage after dinner.
Siobhan frowned. “I thought I did. I guess the bulb must’ve burned out.”
She hadn’t left any lights on inside the building, either, Ryan noted with disapproval. She pushed open the door and reached for the light switch on the wall, the porch was immediately flooded with light. Inside the cottage, the fluorescent tubes of the overhead lights flickered to life as well. Obviously, the bulbs were just fine. He took one look at her perplexed expression and edged her aside. He let the door swing all the way open and took one cautious step into the cottage.
It was warm. Almost too warm, and unexpectedly quiet. He walked a few steps further into the room. He was getting a bad feeling, all of a sudden. Something wasn’t right here. “Looks like your fire’s okay, anyway.” But when he turned back to look at her, he wasn’t sure she was even listening.
She stood in the doorway, peering around anxiously. “Selke?” Her voice quavered slightly, as if she wasn’t sure of getting a response. He sighed as the bad feeling got a little bit worse. The dog was pretty old.
“Stay here,” he told her. “I’ll just take a quick look around.”
He tried to quell his uneasiness as well as his growing frustration, as he made a cursory search of the center’s kitchen. Damn it, he’d been having a really good night up until now. His leg was feeling much better following this afternoon’s acupuncture treatment and there had been a pleasant, warm anticipation building inside him all evening. An anticipation fueled by the hot fantasies which had become a regular feature of his treatments, and his even hotter memories of Saturday night. But if something had happened to her dog, then shit; he guessed he could pretty much forget about a repeat of anything like that for the time being.
Of course, if something had happened to her dog it might do more than simply spoil the mood. She might cry again. Christ. Anything but that. He blew out a deep breath and tried to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest.
It wasn’t the tears themselves, he could handle that. It was everything that went with them. It was the anger and the recriminations. It was the overwhelming helplessness he always felt in the face of them.
Shit. He didn
’t need this. Not any of it. Helpless was not any part of who or what he was now, it hadn’t been for a very long time. That was how he liked it, and that was exactly how it was going to stay.
He gave the infirmary just one, brief, sweeping glance, and then closed the door again. There was no place for the little dog to hide there. There was no way he could have gotten in on his own, either. That left her apartment.
The door was ajar, and he paused just inside. It was the first time he’d been inside her home. He was aware of the almost illicit pleasure he took in being here. It was a lot like her, he decided, breathing deeply as he cataloged his initial impressions of the place. Her elusive fragrance haunted the air and the furnishings were spare and elegant. With only a few hints of disorder, the slightest suggestion of some lush inner chaos.
Just two small rooms, and a minuscule bath paneled in cedar. The outer room contained an armchair, a large freestanding wardrobe and a pellet stove. The bedroom lay beyond an open doorway which she’d hung with a beaded curtain made up of row upon row of shells and tiny dried starfish. He pushed them aside. “Selke? You in here, boy?” A faint scratching sound emanated from somewhere within the darkened room. He called again.
He could see a narrow wedge of moon through the window. It shed just enough light into the room for him to see the black nose that poked its way, tentatively, from beneath the bed.
“Come on, boy,” he urged, as the nose was followed by a small, shaggy head. The little dog eyed him warily for a moment, and then cautiously wormed his way out. “What’s the matter, did something scare you?” Ryan spoke soothingly, as he picked the dog up. “Why are you hiding, huh? Have you been a bad doggy?” The dog looked guilty of something, all right. But he was so relieved to have found him unharmed, he couldn’t care less what kind of mess the little guy might have made. Just as long as Siobhan didn’t find out about it until afterwards.
He really wanted her in a good mood now that there was no longer anything standing in the way of his earlier plans. Especially after having stood in her bedroom, inhaling the scent of her perfume, watching the fall of moonlight upon her bed. And imagining how it would look gleaming on her skin, on her hair and in her eyes as she lay there beside him.