Wishmakers

by Dorothy Garlock

  He was a stranger to her, his background as different from hers as night from day, she thought frantically. And yet she felt as though she'd known him all her life, wanted him, needed him, loved him.

  His heart was still thundering against hers when he wrapped his legs around her and turned on his side, taking her with him. They lay quietly facing each other, her soft belly tight against his hard one. They kissed for a long time, as if it were the first time and there never could be anything beyond a kiss. His tongue was inside her mouth and moving softly and slowly while his fingers teased the nipple on her breast and then drifted lightly down to her belly and fluttered their way to the place where they were joined. The varieties of stroking thrilled her in a thousand different ways, creating a hunger deep, deep inside her. She knew she should be shocked, but she wasn't. The feeling was so acutely pleasurable that she tightened her arms and legs about him and murmured unintelligible words in his ear. He laughed deep in his throat. It was a tender, loving, knowing laugh.

  “I wish I could see your eyes. You're so incredibly sweet, Glory, Glory. I want you to feel everything—”

  “I'll explode—” She arched against him when he flexed his hips. “Jack…”

  “Talk to me, darling. Tell me what you want, what you feel. I've never known anything more wonderful than the feel of you tight against me, surrounding me. You're like a warm, living china doll—sweet, fragile, yet strong, passionate. Oh, be still, darling!” He breathed in gasps when she moved urgently. Then, “Yes! Oh, yes!” With a long breath he thrust at her full force, and incredibly her body responded to his. They merged into a long, long, unbelievably beautiful release and lay shuddering in each other's arms.

  Gloria held him tenderly. She felt an odd sense of power. This big, rough man had quivered in her arms as she had in his. He had made her feel as if she were wonderful, precious, worthwhile—they had come together, as equals, in dignity and need. Slowly his breathing steadied, and he rolled onto his back. His arms pulled her to him and his hand sought her thigh to bring it up to rest on his. They were quiet for a long while, her head on his shoulder, his hand stroking her thigh.

  “This brings a new dimension to our relationship,” he said softly.

  Gloria held her breath through the seconds of silence that followed. She looked up. The face that was so close to hers was not smiling—she could see clearly enough for that.

  “Oh, there's no need for you to feel obligated,” she said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.

  “Obligated? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I don't want you to think…that I expect—”

  “Hush!” The word was sharp, and there wasn't a trace of humor in his voice.

  Gloria peered at him apprehensively, trying to read his expression. A few seconds ago she had felt young and happy and cherished, and she wanted desperately to feel again that closeness of mind and body they'd shared.

  Jack turned his head toward her. “You're not just a one-night stand. There's much more between us than that. We've got to get it all sorted out.”

  She shut her eyes tightly to hold back the tears. Don't spoil it, she cautioned. Don't let him know how afraid you are of being alone, or how much his tenderness means to you. Their union had been everything she had dreamed a union between a man and a woman in love would be. But he had not said anything to her about love….

  “I can't leave Peter in there by himself. He might wake up and be frightened.” She threw back the sheet covering them. Jack's arms tightened around her, refusing to let her go.

  “I thought about that. I'll bring him in to sleep on the couch where we can hear him if he wakes up.”

  “No. I'll go.”

  “Don't go. Stay here with me, Glory. Let me sleep with you in my arms. You keep all my ghosts at bay, my sweet one.” His voice was husky and pleading, and tore at her heart. “Say you'll stay.”

  “All right,” she said mindlessly.

  “I'll get Peter.”

  When he was gone, her hands sought the warm spot where his body had lain. Oh, dear Lord! I've gotten myself in deep trouble this time. I've fallen in love with an aging hippie! she thought miserably. He's sweet and kind, but there's nothing else about him that I admire. He has no ambition. He's content with his hand-to-mouth existence in an old shack in the mountains, and he's ruthless when crossed. I could never live the way he lives, especially with Peter—I need security. Besides, I know absolutely nothing about his background. He could have a criminal record, or be married, for all I know. And what would my family think if I came riding up to the house on a motorcycle with a man with long hair and a beard? They'd be sure, then, that I'd lost my mind.

  Something he'd muttered in her ear while in the throes of passion came filtering into her mind. I want our first time to be long and sweet. Did he plan for this to be a regular arrangement—that they would perform a service for each other? Dear God! Did he think she was the type of woman who would enter into such a relationship?

  Such thoughts ran wildly through her mind as she stared into the darkness, but when Jack returned, slipped into bed beside her, and gathered her tenderly to him, she went to him eagerly and nestled against his strength. In spite of all the reasons she'd cited against continuing a relationship with this big, rugged, sometimes fierce man—he made her feel wanted and…safe.

  Long after Jack had fallen into a deep sleep, Gloria lay cozily against his very male body. No one could doubt his fundamental virility—it radiated from every pore in his aggressively masculine body. She pushed the thought of the other sexual experience she'd had out of her mind. Jack's lovemaking had been tumultuous, and she had responded vigorously to his instruction in the elementary pleasures of loving.

  As far as she was concerned, he was her first and only real lover.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MORNING CAME, AND with it the realization that she was alone in Ethel's bed. The bedroom door was closed, but she could hear the sound of voices coming from the living room—Gary's, Jack's, and Peter's. The clock on the bedside table was turned face down. She turned it up and was astonished to see that it was nine o'clock. Heavens! She hadn't slept that late in ages.

  She threw back the covers, and the cold air hit her naked body, giving her goose bumps. There was a soreness and a stickiness between her legs. She grabbed her clothes and went into the bathroom, carefully locking the door behind her. The face that looked back at her from the mirror was the same face she'd seen yesterday morning. How could that be, when she felt so different inside? A man had made love to her all through the night—a tender, caring, considerate man, a man as different from her former husband as day from night. Marvin had cruelly, and hurtfully, taken her virginity, leaving no doubt that it was distasteful to him to do so, but that duty was duty and legally he was required to consummate the marriage; then he had left their bed on their wedding night, never to return. Jack had made sure that she shared in the enjoyment of their union, kissed away her tears when heightened emotion caused them to spill from her eyes, held her in his arms while she slept.

  Gloria stepped into the shower and let the warm water splash over her. She wondered with increasing anxiety what Jack's attitude toward her would be this morning. Would he be flippant about what happened between them? Would he simply ignore it? Had it meant anything to him, beyond physical relief? Would he take it for granted that he was welcome in her bed for as long as he wanted her?

  She washed herself quickly, dressed, then combed her short blond hair into place. No use in prolonging the agony, she told herself. Face him and get it over with.

  She found Gary alone in the kitchen; he was getting ready to go out the back door.

  “Morning. I heard Peter. Did he go back to our room?”

  “Jack took him up to his place. He said to let you sleep. He thinks you've about wore yourself out.”

  “I…was tired.” She turned to pour a cup of coffee, because she could feel her cheeks tingle.

 
“I'm on my way to get Janet. She'll be a big help to you.”

  “She can have Aunt Ethel's room. I'll get it ready.”

  “No way,” Gary said with an earthy laugh. “That woman's stayin' with me!”

  “Oh! Of course. Um…Gary, did Jack say when he'd be back?”

  “No. He just said tell you he had Peter with him. Don't worry about the kid. Jack'll take care of him.”

  “I know that. I was just wondering—”

  “I'll stop and see Ethel. I should be back by noon, and then you can go.”

  Gloria stood at the sink and watched Gary back his station wagon out of the garage. She gulped down the coffee, then gathered up her cleaning supplies and started her rounds. Work was the only thing that would keep her thoughts at bay this morning.

  Gary returned with Janet shortly after noon. She was a short, full-figured woman with shoulder-length dark hair and soft, dark eyes. Gloria liked her immediately; she was warm and friendly, and obviously very much in love with Gary. She made fresh coffee while Gloria made sandwiches. The three of them sat at the kitchen table and talked about Ethel and the motel until the clock struck two.

  “I thought Peter would be back by now,” Gloria remarked anxiously.

  “Are you going to see Ethel today? I told her you'd probably come this afternoon,” Gary said.

  “I was, but I hate to go not knowing about Peter.”

  “Janet and I will be here. We'll look after him if Jack comes back and wants to leave again—which I doubt.” Gary grinned and winked at Janet.

  The realization hit Gloria like a dash of cold water that Gary knew she and Jack had spent the night in Ethel's room. Well, so what? she thought stubbornly. I'm an adult, and I don't feel one bit guilty. Yet, despite her determination to handle herself coolly in this new situation she found herself in, she was frightened, anxious, and apprehensive about seeing Jack again.

  “If you're sure you don't mind looking after Peter, I'll go on to town. I want to get back before dark.”

  “Don't worry about a thing.” Janet got up to clear the table. “I'm here to help.”

  Jack had brought Peter back to the motel while she was in town, and left again before she returned. Peter chattered endlessly about the day: about his dog, watching a jackrabbit run, seeing kittens, a covey of quail, a pocket gopher, a badger. The small boy was so full of all he'd seen and heard, the words tumbled over each other as they spilled out of his small mouth.

  “Jack's dog's name's Ringo. It's big and black and has a short tail. Jack makes him mind. He yells and Ringo walks beside him. Guess what, Mom? Jack's town is old…the streets are all dirt…Jack let me dig in the street—”

  Jack, Jack, Jack. Peter had said his name a hundred times since coming home. It was hours after his usual bedtime that he calmed down enough to go to sleep. Gloria sat beside him for a long while before she got into her own bed.

  “Oh, Jack,” she whispered into the silent room. “Thank you for giving my son such a wonderful day.” Almost without knowing it she added, “And me such a wonderful night.”

  Gloria thought about her visit earlier that day with her Aunt Ethel. She had been pleased to see how well her aunt was adjusting to the home. She was in a wheelchair now, and there was always someone willing to take her out into the main room where there were a television and a pool table, and where numerous card games were going on almost all day. Gradually she was getting her speech back and no longer cried when Gloria had to leave. Her eyes sparkled when Gloria told her Janet and Gary were going to be married, and that they planned to stay at the motel until they found a house so they could have Gary's little girl with them.

  “Good…good…but you?” Ethel had asked her with an anxious look in her eyes.

  “Don't worry about me. Peter and I will keep the motel going until you can come home. I have an income from Marvin.” Gloria knew the white lie was necessary. It wouldn't do at all for her aunt to know she'd cut herself off from Marvin's money when she left Ohio, and that all she had was her small personal savings and a little money from the sale of a few pieces of jewelry he'd given her.

  The days passed slowly until a week had gone by, with no sign of Jack. Gloria became increasingly sure that he was deliberately staying away to convey the message that he wanted no deep or lasting relationship with her. She was angry at herself for thinking about him, and angry at him for presuming she wanted a relationship with him.

  She had promised herself she could handle whatever came up as the result of this impulsive trip west, and so far she had, even Aunt Ethel's illness. Now it was time to take another step, and she had done so. She'd sent out queries about job opportunities in Great Falls. She had decided that if Ethel sold the motel she would move on.

  After a morning visit to the nursing home she stopped at the grocery store for a few things, and at the ten-cent store she got a new coloring book for Peter. The air was cold and damp, and dark clouds rolled out of the northwest. The smell of woodsmoke, hanging low, greeted her when she turned into the drive. She parked the car and hurried into the living quarters of the motel.

  Janet was putting a load of sheets and towels in the washer when Gloria came in the back door with her arms filled with sacks.

  “Wow! You must've bought out the town.”

  “Not quite. But I did get the makings for a yummy cake, a couple boxes of cereal for Peter, and a new coloring book.”

  “Yummy cake? Sounds good…and fattening.”

  “It is good, and loaded with calories, but what the heck. You melt caramels and add chocolate chips and coconut for the filling of a chocolate cake. I'll copy the recipe for you.”

  “I'd like that. Gary loves desserts.” Janet added soap to the machine and turned the dial to start it. “Jack was here while you were gone. He took Peter back home with him. I didn't think you'd mind.”

  Gloria turned quickly and started taking the groceries from the sack. “Did he say when they'd be back? It's getting terribly cold, and it could snow.”

  “He wasn't on the cycle. He had the Ranger, and he put Peter in his snowsuit. He'll be all right.”

  “Yes, of course,” Gloria said absently. She put the groceries away automatically. It was clear now that he was avoiding her. But how had he known she wouldn't be here? He must have called on the CB, she reasoned, and Janet must have told him she'd gone to town. She wished she had the nerve to ask Janet.

  The day moved slowly. Janet went to the room she shared with Gary. Gloria made the yummy cake and left it on the kitchen counter to cool. The stillness of the house bore down on her. She missed Peter's chatter, his endless questions. She thought of using the CB radio to call the Hangtown station. If Jack answered, she didn't know what she'd say to him besides, “What the hell do you mean coming here and taking my son?” No, she wouldn't say that. Peter had talked of nothing but Jack, and how he was going to come get him and show him the antelope that came down to the salt blocks he'd put just outside of his town.

  She wouldn't chastise him for taking Peter; it would be mean to deprive Peter of his company just because she and Jack were having their problems. When she saw him again, she'd treat him the same as she had before: friendly, but strictly impersonal. There was no way she would let him know how crushed she was, how miserable she felt, how used. His denial of her, now, would tarnish forever the memories of the beautiful moments they'd shared.

  She sat on a stool behind the counter in the office and watched the cars go by. She was deep in thought when the long, shiny black car with the tinted glass turned into the drive and stopped in front of the office door. Gloria gaped in surprise; she knew immediately who it was, and was gripped with apprehension. She got slowly to her feet and was standing when the back door of the car opened and Marvin, holding his hat with one gloved hand, stepped out.

  He stood beside the car and looked the building up and down; Gloria was sure he was mentally assessing its worth, for money was forever on his mind. The wind blew open his long black overcoa
t, and it flapped out behind him like wings. When he reached the office door, the driver opened it for him, then went back to the car.

  Marvin looked around the office haughtily, ignoring Gloria until he'd finished his survey of the premises. Then he looked at her.

  “Well, Gloria, I must say you've certainly buried yourself in the sticks. Back to your roots, huh?” He removed his hat, placed it on the counter, removed his gloves, and carefully smoothed with his fingertips the silver hair at his temples. Almost colorless gray eyes looked into hers, and he lifted his arched brows disdainfully. His every word, his every gesture, was meant to intimidate.

  “What do you want?” Gloria demanded angrily. She was surprised at what little effect he had on her. Where was the old fear, the feeling of inferiority, she used to experience when she was with him?

  Marvin sensed her detachment and gave her the silent treatment, looking at her with narrowed eyes, mouth turned down slightly at the corners as if he smelled something unpleasant, hand poised in front of him as if ready to flick away dust or lint from his coat. The look had been cultivated and refined over the years, and usually managed to reduce even the most self-assured person into quivering servitude.

  Suddenly laughter bubbled up in Gloria's throat. How could she ever have been frightened by this…phony? Something goaded her to say, “Stop playacting, Marvin. I've seen this act a hundred times. What do you want?”

  “Be careful what you say, Gloria. I still have the means of taking from you what you treasure the most. Why you value this cheap, tawdry lifestyle or the company of truckers and barroom scum is beyond me, but as long as you do, I'll not hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

  “You'll never get your hands on Peter—not as long as I live!”