Pat lay down on her stomach and propped her head on the heel of her hand. She pulled at the carpet. “You think we could—could talk more about it? Is that what you want?”
Jim got down on the floor in front of her. “Yes. I think we could talk more about it. I think we should talk more about it. And what I really want is you.”
“I know you do.” She rolled over to her side and reached out with one hand, stroking his hair. “I just hope I’m not making a mistake.” She slid her fingers down to his cheek, caressing it.
“You’re not. Marry me, Pat?”
“I’ll marry you, James. But this will be the last time.”
Chills swept from his neck to his cheeks to his arms and down his legs. “And I’ll make you happy, I promise.”
“And I promise that if you don’t, you’ll be sorry.” Her eyes flashed, and she chuckled. Then she slipped her hand around to the back of his head and pulled herself to him, kissing him lightly on the lips.
Jim reached his arms out and pulled her on top of him, enclosing her in a bear hug. It felt so good to be able to touch her again. He caressed her all over, her face with the back of his fingers and her arms and the sides of her legs. He wanted to make sure that he was not imagining things. This was really her. His wife. His Patty. And she was allowing him to be with her.
His hands went to her breasts and as she nipped and kissed him on the neck and ears and lips, he stroked her nipples and felt them grow hard under his touch. He kissed her face. His need to feel her whole body and assure himself that he was not dreaming was almost greater than his need to be inside of her. He had thought of this moment so many times over the last year and a half. In his heart, he never believed it would happen. He had hoped, but he had never assumed that he would be able to touch Patty again.
After a few minutes, Jim got to his knees and scooped Patty up in his arms, carrying her to the bed. Their bed. Locking the bedroom door, he began unbuttoning his shirt on the way back to the bed.
“No, let me do that,” she whispered. “It’s been so long.” She sat up on the bed and began slowly slipping the buttons through the holes and caressing his chest, his chest hair, and his nipples lightly each time she succeeded in unbuttoning one.
Jim clutched her to him. Her soft skin and the smell of her hair as he pressed his face into it brought back memories of long past intimacies. He tugged at her nightgown and managed to slip it away from her body, revealing the glistening, naked body of the woman who had more control over him than he ever thought possible. Her body was essentially unchanged from his memories. If anything, she was more svelte. He reached down and stroked her breasts, holding one in each hand, enjoying the renewed pleasure of her body.
Pat tugged his shirt away. Beginning with his belt buckle, she slipped three of her fingers down behind the button and caressed the soft fur of his abdomen with the backs of them. Her other hand fumbled with the leather tongue of his belt and finally pulled it from its loops. She tossed it aside, pulled his remaining clothes down, and held him tightly as her tongue ran up his torso to his mouth.
Oh, God. He struggled to maintain control. He ran his hand down from her breasts to her soft pubic hair and knew then that she really did want him as much as he wanted her. He glanced at the lamp on the bedside table, the only source of light in the room, gave fleeting thought to turning it off, then cast that thought aside. He wanted to see everything he had been missing out on for the past eighteen months, twelve days, and six hours of his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Jim awoke with Pat’s warm and firm bare bottom pressed against his thigh. He felt buoyant like he was floating in a pool of water, delight covering him like a light blanket. He stared at the ceiling, studying the texture and breathed in her familiar sweet, sleepy smell. Her breath came evenly. He lay still, afraid if he moved a hair, she’d awaken.
In a few hours, he had to meet with Mrs. Peterson at the district clerk’s office. In the meantime, he wanted nothing more than to lie next to the woman he loved and enjoy memories of the night before. On the other hand, he could get lucky again if she woke before the kids. He could go again, if she was interested. If not, there would be other nights. They’d made reassurances to each other most of the night.
All he needed now was to get that call from Edgar. Would it come this week? Next week? Edgar had done everything but offer him the job. The timing was perfect. The children’s school wouldn’t start for another month or so, and he’d have time to find a house. Correction. They’d have time to find a house. He’d have to start thinking in plurals again.
Pat turned and pulled his arm around her shoulders. “What are you thinking about?”
“Good morning.” Warmth enveloping him, Jim drew in a slow, deep breath and released it as though putting himself into relaxation for yoga. “Everything.”
“You know, Jimmy, we might have trouble selling this house. It’s still a buyer’s market.”
The word we pleased him. “We’ll rent it out. We’ll move from the bourgeoisie to the upper middle class, especially if I sell my novel for a decent amount of money.”
“I didn’t know we were in the bourgeoisie. I’ve felt pretty poor lately.”
“Me, too. But just think, Patty, with our combined incomes, we’ll do a lot better again.”
“You’re counting pretty heavily on being offered that job in Dallas, aren’t you? You could take that other one, and we could keep this house, and the kids wouldn’t have to leave their friends, and I’d keep my teaching position at Smith—”
“Is that what you really want?”
“You really think your novel will bring in some good money?”
“My agent thinks so.” He turned and faced her. “But I don’t want to work for that small paper.”
“If you sell your book, you could stay home and write full-time.”
“That used to be my dream, but no more. I’m a reporter. That’s what I do. Do you really want to stay here so badly?” He kissed the tip of her nose and pulled back so he could see her entire face. Sleep had gathered in the corners of her eyes, and her hair had sprung up behind the back of her head like turkey feathers. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
“I don’t know whether I want to leave or not.” She ran her fingertips over his chin stubble.
“I want that Dallas job so bad I can taste it.”
“They haven’t offered it yet.” She kept looking from his mouth to his eyes, her own eyes dancing.
“They will. They will. I can feel it. Haven’t you ever wanted something so much that you’d do anything, or almost anything, to achieve it?”
She nodded and pulled his arm around her.
“That’s how this is, Patty.” He snuggled closer. “But if you don’t want to go, if you really don’t want to move away, I won’t take it. I’d rather stay here and be with you than go to Dallas without you.”
“Oh, honey.” Pat slipped her fingers behind his neck and brought his face down to hers. “Would you really give it up for me?”
He nipped at her ear. “I’d give up my life for you.”
Giggling, Pat nuzzled him and caressed him until he got to the point where he couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed her, and they went under the covers until the kids began banging on the bedroom door thirty minutes later.
Pat suddenly lost her sense of humor. “Quiet,” she whispered.
“It’s just the kids,” he said in his normal tone.
“Mama, why is the door locked?” Jeanette asked in a small, plaintive voice.
“Be still, Jim.” Pat pushed him away. “I don’t want them to know.” She called loudly, “I’m fixing to take a shower, kids. Go ahead and get some breakfast.”
“Why not?” Jim rose on one elbow and stared at her back as she slid out of bed. It was a nice back. Smooth. Freckled around the shoulders with two moles on one shoulder blade. “They’ll know soon enough anyway.”
“It’s too soon.” She was still
whispering. “They won’t understand.”
“They’ll have to.” He found he was whispering, too, but didn’t want to go against her wishes until he found out what this was about.
She had gone into the bathroom, so he followed her. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Not right now, Jim.” She stepped behind the shower curtain almost shyly. “I want you to let me break it to them gently.”
“Break it to them gently?” He had to raise his voice to talk over the shower and shower curtain. Ludicrous, knowing the children were in the hall wondering why their mother wouldn’t come out of the bedroom. It was reminiscent of many an earlier discussion between them, when he’d have to follow her all around the house to finish a conversation because she wouldn’t stay in one place.
Jim liked to shower with Pat, but if she was shaving her legs it got crowded when she bent over, and she fussed at him about not waiting until she was through. He wanted to get in with her now. He wouldn’t mind her bending over, shaving her legs, with him in the bathtub with her, but he wasn’t going to press his luck. “What do you mean, Patty? The kids would be delighted to have me back here. Why don’t we get dressed and let them in?”
Her head, full of bubbly shampoo, popped around the curtain. “Please let me do it my way. I’d just like to sit down and explain things. That’s all.”
“I don’t see what’s to explain. We’re going to get married again, aren’t we? What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t want to shock them. I also don’t want them to think that it’s okay for people to sleep in the same room when they’re not married.” She gave him an exasperated look and disappeared around the curtain again.
“Do as I say not as I do,” Jim muttered, anger nipping at him.
She put her head out again. “What?”
“Nothing.” He sat down on the toilet and stared at the shower curtain. “So when do you plan to tell them?”
“Give me a few days.” she called. “To the end of the week, maybe?”
“That’s four days.”
“No, I meant until next Sunday.”
He wandered back into the bedroom while he waited for his turn to shower, rubbing his naked arms, cool from the air conditioning. So she was saying he couldn’t come back until Sunday. There must be a reason for it, like maybe someone else she had to tell. He hoped not, not after last night. Maybe something she wanted to do before then. He had no idea what that could be. Women. He’d never understand them. They didn’t think logically. They might have a reason for doing something, but it wreaked havoc on a man’s mind trying to figure it out.
He straightened his clothes on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt and brushing his pants legs. While the shower was still running, he reached into her purse to get a look at her gun. She’d pushed it to the bottom so he emptied the contents onto the bed.
The pistol was a shiny, chrome-plated semi-automatic in a small holster. At close range, it would have no trouble doing the job. He checked the clip and found six rounds. What the hell? He exhaled a gush of air. The most he could do would be to take it up with her at some later date and pray the kids didn’t get hurt before then.
After dropping it back into her purse and gathering up her other stuff—keys, billfold, lipstick, tissues—he came across two pieces of folded printer paper stapled together. It was a worn photocopy of a list of women’s names and addresses in one column and men’s in a second one.
Several of the men’s names were crossed over so many times they were almost eradicated. Jim tried to read through the marks. He recognized Johnson. On the second page, he found Pat’s name and his name. There was a hand drawn asterisk or X next to it and several others. He didn’t have time to wonder what it meant. The shower cut off.
Jim replaced the pages and the rest of the contents in her purse and put it back on the floor. He’d have to try to make sense of the whole thing later. He hurried back into the bathroom.
“You coming in?”
He breathed in the warm, foggy air. “Yes, I’ll only be a minute.”
Her leg came out, followed by a shiny, wet body. She grabbed a clean towel from the rack and held it to her chest. Though he was temporarily incapacitated, he enjoyed admiring her. She was a properly proportioned size eight, and the way she was put together had the right effect on him. As he glided past her, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips.
“And how am I supposed to get out of here without their knowing I was here? My car is parked out in front of the house.” Jim turned on the faucet and put his face under the warm water, then immersed his whole body.
Now it was her turn to raise her voice over the shower. With his head in the water, her voice came in muted tones.
“Out my bedroom window, then you can come around the front as if you just drove up and are having breakfast with us.”
Jim moaned. He didn’t think his kids were dumb enough to fall for that old trick, and there were the prying eyes of the neighbors to consider. But if that would make her happy...
“Okay? I’m going out to get dressed now.”
She didn’t even wait for his answer; she was so sure of him. She knew she had him by the balls, and he knew she knew. Hell, she was worth it. He shampooed his hair, soaped up and rinsed, and was in the bedroom fully dressed and crawling out of the window in under ten minutes. Bending at the knees, he walked just below the high windows on the side of the house, swung around to the front, stepped up onto the porch, and knocked.
After a few moments, Pat came to the door. “Oh, it’s you.” She winked. “Come on in.” She scooted away as he attempted a love pat on her rear end.
The ridiculousness of the situation threatened to spill out of him in laughter as he followed her into the kitchen. The children were scooping cereal into their mouths and trying to watch the television in the next room.
“Hi, Daddy,” Jeanette said. She put her thumb up to her mouth and began chewing on the side of it.
“Hi, Dad,” Patrick echoed. His eyes darted from his father to his mother.
“Hey guys.” The children both eyed him with a look of consternation as he bent down for hugs.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” Patrick asked. “Something wrong?”
Jim put his knuckle to his lips, feeling like a trespasser. Did something have to be wrong for him to be there at times other than the court-ordered possession schedule? Yes. He grimaced over their heads at Pat. “Your mother invited me for breakfast.”
Pat was digging around in the refrigerator. “I’ve got yogurt and granola.”
“I’m trying to quit,” Jim said.
“Toast and an egg that’s as old as the hills is the other option unless you want cold cereal like the kids.”
“Make that toast and egg with coffee and you’ve got a winning deal.”
“And I suppose you want me to cook it.”
“Your house. Your rules.” Turning to the kids, he said, “So what have you two monsters been doing with yourselves this week?”
“Dad, the week just started yesterday,” Patrick said. He stared from his father to his mother again. “Is something going on here? Did somebody die or something?”
“No, dear,” Pat said. “Why do you ask?”
“‘Cause you’re being so nice to Dad. Is something wrong?”
Jeanette’s eyes followed the two of them.
“Nothing’s wrong. Now eat your breakfast. Jim, I’m going to scramble this egg unless you advise me otherwise.” Pat turned on the fire under the frying pan, adjusted it, and cracked the egg over a bowl. She poured some milk in with the egg, beat it, and splashed it into the pan, all the while not meeting Jim’s eyes.
Jim forced a grim look onto his face, afraid to look at her, afraid if their eyes met she’d burst out laughing or, worse, afraid she’d have a screaming, angry fit—realizing what they’d done—and throw him out. He poured himself a cup of coffee. It would have been better if he’d left. Was she having s
econd thoughts? He leaned against the counter and watched the kids watching them. Their children were anything but stupid. He decided it would come as no revelation to them when Pat finally sat them down and told them.
Pat handed him a plate with a slice of buttered toast and the egg. “Thank you, ma’am.” It was a familiar, nostalgic feeling to see his family as they had once been and shortly would be again. Did any of them feel what he was feeling?
Pat poured herself some coffee and sat next to Jim for the few minutes it took him to gulp his food down. He wanted to reach out and take her hand right there in front of the children, but didn’t for fear of angering her, though he felt gutless at the thought. He could wait ‘til Sunday. But he didn’t have to like it.
“So can I drop anyone anywhere on my way downtown?” Knowing he still had to run home and change clothes, Jim fervently hoped no one would take him up on his offer, but he was willing to go out of his way to keep his cover of just coming over for breakfast. He hoped Pat appreciated it. Rinsing his plate, fork, and cup, he placed them in the dishwasher just the way Pat liked and dried his hands on a dishtowel.
“Patrick? You going anywhere today? Jeanette?”
“That’s okay, Dad,” Patrick said. “Mom is going to take me to Michael’s later.”
“Okay, then...see you when I see you.” Jim kissed each child on the head, smiled at Pat who he thought was acting as stilted as a girl meeting her boyfriend’s mother for the first time, and let himself out. As he started up the Mustang, he could hardly wait until she broke the ice and told the kids. It was just too uncomfortable.
The sky was clear again, the temperature rising rapidly as he drove out into the country to his place. He moved through the grounds, checking for signs of trespassers but saw nothing out of place. When he approached the door to his apartment, however, something didn’t feel right. He stopped short of entering. The welcome mat, the boot scraper, the cactus beside the door, everything was where it was supposed to be. The door sat firmly closed. His eyes swept the landscape. No one there that he could see. The house and cabin weren’t near the public road, so a vehicle would have been obvious. Still, that feeling hung over him as he unlocked the door and went inside.
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