Hell Hath No Fury

by M. J. Schiller

  “They’ll be fine without me. It’s you I’m worried about.” His brow was furrowed.

  I gathered myself, sitting up straight. “I’m fine. Really. You should go.”

  The ice cream scoops were dripping everywhere, so he gave them a quick lick to keep them on the cones. “Are you sure you don’t want your ice cream?”

  “After you licked them both, no way.”

  He smiled finally. “And she’s back.” He had to lick again to stop the flow.

  I could breathe now, but still wanted to get home and collapse in my bed, away from everyone, until I could think about something else.

  We’ll get her later.

  That thought wasn’t at all reassuring. “You’re right. I’m better, but I need to go.” I rolled a shoulder in the direction of the pool. “And you need to go.”

  He stood. “Let me at least walk you to your car.”

  “No. That’s not necessary.” His concern for me was actually making me want to fall apart in his arms, and that wasn’t appropriate and would scare him off. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe.” Before he could say anything else, I rushed away.

  Chapter 5

  Kyle

  After our evening at The Pint Well-Taken, we came in from the garage as quietly as we could, and Ryan scampered upstairs to bed. I was still warm from the glow of alcohol and an evening spent with a great kid, when I peeked in her bedroom door. She sat on the end of the bed with the nightie from my bag draped across her lap. My duffle was on the floor near her feet. I stepped into the room, fully intending to chastise her for going through my stuff, but when she lifted her head, the fierceness of her expression arrested me.

  “How could you?” She scrunched the silky scrap of pink in her fists.

  I took a step back, mentally and physically. “How could I what?”

  She sprang off the mattress. “Don’t lie to me! Don’t you dare lie to me when I caught you red-handed.”

  I was still confused for a second, my earlier drinks muddling my thinking. “Red-handed?” Tears filled her eyes and her face looked so pained, it struck at my heart. But as comprehension dawned on me, the pleasing heat of my drinking ignited into a flame of anger. Bile rose in my throat, choking me. “You think I—damn it, Sam. I did not cheat on you!” I was tired of the constant accusations.

  “How can you say that?” Her voice shook with fury and, catching me completely off-guard, she shoved me, advancing toward me as I fell back. “You son-of-a-bitch! You’re all the same. You lie….”

  She put her hands on my chest again, but I grabbed her forearms, my jaw tight, chin jutting out. “This has to stop. I—”

  She jerked free. “I guess we know now why you didn’t want me to do the laundry.” Her shouting would wake the kids.

  I lowered my voice in response. “We can’t keep doing this.”

  She swept the nightgown from the floor where she had dropped it. “You didn’t want me to see this. Did you? Thought it was safe there, that I wouldn’t find it in your little zippered pocket.”

  I’d had it. “No. I didn’t want you to see that, because—” I whipped my wallet out from my pocket and rifled through it, tearing some bills in my rush, but what did I care. “Because I bought it for you.” I found what I was searching for and held up the receipt.

  She stared at it and her lip quivered for a moment, then her eyes hardened again and she knocked it away. “That doesn’t mean anything. You could have bought it for her.”

  I watched it flutter to the floor, limp and lifeless, like me. My fight was gone. I bent and retrieved my bag. “And did you see what else I had in that zippered pocket?” I said with dead calm. I fished it out. “This. This crappy, stupid bedtime story I wrote for you and intended to leave it with the nightie when I had to go.” I waved it in front of her. “For you, Sam. Not for anyone else.” I pressed it into her hand then marched past her, snatching a pillow from the bed. “I’m sleeping on the damn couch.”

  She didn’t say a word, just stood frozen. I tramped out the door and closed it behind me. Halfway to the living room, I remembered I needed a blanket. I stopped and consider returning for one, but finally prayed her Blackhawks fleece blanket was on the couch like it usually was. I didn’t bother to switch on any lights as I crossed to the couch and dropped my weak-assed flat pillow on it.

  “Unbelievable,” I muttered. The truth was, I wanted to cry. What happened to us? Did I do anything to make her distrust me? I thought through it all again, staring out the front window, the street lights cascading over the back of the couch positioned in front of it. I ran a hand down my face, leaving it on my mouth for a few seconds before exhaling and dropping my arm to my side. I glanced at the couch and unfolded the fleece blanket. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, but left them on, stretching out on my side, tugging the blanket to stuff it under my shoulder. The blanket wasn’t covering my feet. In frustration, I poked at the end with my foot, trying to stretch it out more, and accidentally kicked the end table.

  “Ouch! Damn it!” I bellowed in the dark. I twisted and sat, grabbing my foot and stifling a moan. It seemed like it was bleeding, but upon examination it must have been the way the blood rushed to the area causing that sensation. Still, it hurt like a mother. I reclined again, gingerly extending my foot. The throbbing would make it even more difficult to sleep. I put a hand behind my head and stared at the shadows of tree branches on the ceiling. Where had it all gone wrong? I shifted my gaze, turning to watch the limbs outside, the shadows a murky reflection of the real thing. That’s who we were. Shadows of who we had once been.

  When I first met her, my God, we had so much fun together. I’d never laughed so hard…. I’d never fallen so hard for any woman in my life. Before her I was mister free and easy. Living the life as an NHL referee. Traveling, meeting plenty of women. Seducing them wasn’t difficult. I thought I had it all. But it was nothing compared to what I found in Sam.

  When she walked into that stadium box in Chicago the first night we met, with all her swagger and self-confidence, and I heard her voice, teasing and tinted with a sarcasm which was a match for my own, I knew then. I knew that first instant. I was a goner. My life was changed. Dramatically. And for the better. I had thought the idea of soulmates so hopelessly corny, until she brought color and life to my world. I sighed.

  A door creaked, and I lifted my head. As I watched she emerged from the hallway and my heart clutched. She was wearing the negligee and she looked absolutely phenomenal, as she always did. The silk kissed her curves and swayed sensually as she moved forward. My breath came shallowly. She glided toward me, and I remained motionless, watching her cross the room until she stood by my side then crouched. Even though the streetlights showed she’d cried her makeup off and wasn’t physically at her best, she was my beautiful Sam. The love I had for her painted her that way indelibly. My heart swelled so much it hurt. I reached for her reflexively and was glad I did. I ran the back of my hand down the soft skin along her cheeks then cupped her chin, saying nothing. I’m not sure I could. Tears burned in my eyes as I remained transfixed by her. I loved her so much.

  “I—” She got choked up and had to start again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She seemed so sad and lost.

  “Come here.” I shifted on the couch and drew her in next to me. “Nothing’s wrong with you.” But I knew that was a lie. A desperate lie. I wanted so much for us to be okay again. I kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay.” Was I telling her or telling myself? I held her close, and she snuggled under my chin. I thought and thought about what to say next, but words failed me. And really, only one thing was left to say in the end. Several minutes passed as we lay together, just me and her and the darkness surrounding us. I tightened my grip around her. I’d spoken the four words many a time, but never with as much of my heart as I did then. “I love you, Sam.”

  After a long pause she said in a small voice, “I know.”

  Half the nigh
t had passed when I woke her. “We should go in our room. We don’t want the kids to…you know, wonder.”

  She nodded, and we trudged to the bedroom. She got under the covers, watching me without saying anything as I removed my clothes by the singular light of a lamp. My goofy story sat on end on her bedside table, angled toward the bed. I’d thought it up in my hotel room one night when I couldn’t sleep for missing her. It was written on a few pieces of Holiday Inn stationery, torn and folded into the shape of a small book. It contained drivel, but it was our kind of drivel, and it had made me miss her less at the time.

  I slid in beside her and reached to switch the lamp off, but before I could, she lifted onto an elbow and stroked the side of my face.

  “I’ve missed you.” She lowered her lips to mine, giving me a soft kiss then pulling away to search my face.

  Caught off-guard, I didn’t react at first. But within seconds my hands were buried in her hair and my mouth sought hers hungrily. I flipped her so I was on top and could peer down at her. She needed me, and I, her. I made love to her slowly and sensually, watching in the soft glow of the lamplight how she responded to me. It was good to finally be able to please her, to listen to each moan and know it was for me, to have the breath of her sigh warm my neck when I brought her to peak. But afterward, when I held her, something was missing. Physically it was fantastic. But it left me hollow. Like it never had before. Even when I was involved in shallow, meaningless relationships. And I knew she recognized it, too. We didn’t speak. She drifted off to sleep finally, but I was awake for hours thinking things through.

  Despite my lack of sleep, I was up first. When she came into the kitchen I was settling into my second cup of coffee. I was leaning on the counter with my feet in front of me. “Want some coffee?”

  She moved to get it herself. “Is that a real question?” She gave me a wry smile and a tinkling of hope things could be better. That’s how it was all morning. Awkwardness punctuated by enough of the old magic to make the absence of it even more painful. When Elise came in, we continued the charade that nothing was wrong. But she was a smart kid, and I’m sure she sensed the tension. Still, that half-hour with her was the best part of the morning. If Sam and I shared one thing, it was a love for her kids. While Elise spoke about running into some lifeguard at the pool, I put my arm around Samantha, and for a few seconds we relaxed and actually enjoyed the moment. But when Elise left, unease settled over us again. I wanted to talk, but Jake and Ryan were now awake.

  The pretending was exhausting. “Mind if go for a run?” Maybe the fresh air would do me some good.

  She seemed relieved when I asked. “No. Of course not. Go have yourself a nice run.”

  I hit the streets, and my spirits did rise. While Metallica pounded through my earphones my feet pounded on the pavement. It was a beautiful day, but still a tad cool for the pool, where Elise said she was going. It surprised me she wanted to go two days in a row. She wasn’t much of a pool gal. But…I guess it was the beginning of summer and the newness factored in. By July she’d be pooled out. Then a strange thought crept in. She went into a lot of detail about that brief exchange with the lifeguard…could she be crushing on someone? The thought had my pace slowing. No way was I ready for that. I already knew no one would ever be good enough for my Elise, and everyone would be considered as a threat until proven otherwise.

  When I got back, winded, Sam had changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and she and Ryan were out on the lawn. He was about to head out. I huffed, bent in half, grabbing my knees. “You…taking off?”

  “Yeah.”

  I peered up, but remained semi-horizontal. “Where’s Jake? Isn’t he going to say goodbye?”

  “He already did,” Sam answered. “He went to that David kid’s house. They’re riding mountain bikes or something.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Hmm.” Jake was not exactly the outdoorsy type.

  “Hey, Mom. Could I get a couple of those cookies Elise made to take with me?”

  “Sure. I don’t think she’d mind. I’ll go get them.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  When she left, Ryan clamped my shoulder. “You okay, old man?”

  I was still huffing and puffing. I needed to burn some energy and took the last stretch home at a pretty fast pace. “Old man?” I held up a finger, still bent over. “I’ll show you old man. I’ll whip your ass…as soon as I catch my breath.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Ryan glanced at the house. “Hey. I wanted to talk about something last night, but it didn’t seem right.”

  I straightened then stretched to the left to dislodge a side stitch I had. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. It’s just…I’ve seen my old man snooping around here, saying stuff to Mom about you cheating and—”

  “I hope you didn’t believe that,” I said in alarm.

  He grimaced. “Hell, no. I know you’re not the type of guy to do that. It’s easy to see you love my mom.”

  “I do.”

  “It’s also pretty easy to see you two are having some…difficulties. And I think my father’s behind them.”

  “You don’t have to worry about—”

  He waved his hands in front of him. “I know. I know. I only wanted to warn you about my dad.” He smiled. “You and Mom will work this out. You guys were meant for each other.”

  I wished I knew that was true. “Thanks, Ry. We’ll definitely work on it.”

  “Work on what?” Sam interjected.

  “Uhh…on….” She wouldn’t appreciate me talking about our marital discord with her son.

  Ryan slapped my back. “Death Fight II. Kyle here is planning on getting some practice in so we can beat Jake the next time I’m home.”

  “Huh.” She handed him the cookies. “Good luck with that.”

  Ryan walked around his car to get into the driver’s seat. “What? You don’t think we can beat him?”

  “Let me put it this way—you’ve got two chances, slim and none. And Slim left town.”

  Ryan stuck out his chin as he opened the car door. “Oh, ye of little faith. Bye, Mom.” He slid into the driver’s seat.

  She strode over to knock on the passenger’s side window and he opened it.

  She bent and grasped the top of the window. “Call me when you get there,” she said.

  At the same time, he said, “I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “All right.” She pushed off the car and watched as her firstborn roared down the road.

  I put my arm over her shoulder and we turned to walk inside. “You’re already missing him, aren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  I squeezed her to my hip. “I know. Me, too. He’s a great kid.”

  “Thanks. Now what were you two really talking about?”

  “Well-ll-ll,” I stalled. “I’ll tell you after a shower and another cup of coffee.”

  A half hour later we sat at the small kitchen table next to each other blowing steam from our cups of jo.

  “So….” How to say this…? “Things got a little crazy last night.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” She gestured with her hands and I grabbed one and held it.

  “I know you are. And I’m sorry for my part in it, too. But…something’s wrong with us, Sam. And I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve tried—”

  “I know you have.”

  I took a deep breath. “So, since we can’t fix it, let’s talk to someone who’s an expert in these things. Let’s see a marriage counselor.”

  I expected her to go nuts, but she said, “That’s a good idea.”

  I exhaled. Should I push my luck? “Maybe we could both benefit from individual counselling as well.”

  She hesitated then tilted her head. “I agree. We should do that, too.”

  This was going far easier than I thought it would. “I’ll do some research and see if I can find the right place, or places for us.”

  “Sounds good. Let me know what I can do to help.”

  “Thanks,
Sam. I know therapy is not your favorite thing….”

  She looked me in the eye. “I’d do anything to get us back.”

  That, at least, was encouraging.

  Chapter 6

  Hunter

  I swept my gaze along the pool deck and water, wishing I was in my chair so I could see more. I came in a half hour early in hopes of seeing her. Wanted to come in an hour earlier, but talked myself into being reasonable. Hell, I wanted to be there when the pool opened, but I refused to be that into a girl.

  Still, I’d gone through every nuance of our moments together all night long. No one else had ever captivated and intrigued me like she did. I wanted to know her. Wanted to know her story. Be part of it.

  I told myself over and over to stop obsessing about her. It was stupid, right, to give all your thought to a girl? But I couldn’t help it. She had a vulnerability in her, behind her prickly façade. That smile which lit up the world and warmed me, those eyes which snapped the fire of amusement, irritation, desire…life, they couldn’t lie about the girl beneath the one she showed to everyone else. I wanted to be the one she shared that with. I wanted to help her, give her the love I sensed she needed. I was crazy and far too introspective and nerdy, and hopelessly sensitive to the pain in others.

  I searched the whole facility, then searched again, looking for the polka dotted suit and the girl within it, knowing that a) she might not be here, and b) she could be wearing something else. Several times I thought I found her, only to have the person move squarer to me and realize with a sinking sensation that it wasn’t her. Then I spotted someone lying on her stomach in one of the lounge chairs and I could just tell it was her. She was in the same spot as yesterday. My spirit immediately lifted, buoyed up by her. I had to force myself to walk, my lifeguard voice again reverberating in my mind. “Walk, don’t run. Walk!” Once close, I quieted my footsteps. She was facing me, but her eyes were closed.

  I sat in the seat beside hers and it creaked, but she didn’t react. I stretched my legs out, laced my fingers behind my head, and asked, “Feeling better today?”