by Louise Corum
And, another thing, she was making it clear that she was interested in him. Very interested. She didn’t come right out and say it, of course, but her actions spoke volumes. She would volunteer to stay late or to do personal errands from him. She was eager to please and would blush whenever they would have a one-on-one conversation about something. He knew she liked him but he held back. This can go no further than the office, he told himself. It would be too complicated. But how he wished he could return her gestures of like. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. She was off limits because he was off limits.
Of course, that made it all the more tantalizing.
She made him blush, something he’d never done before. He tried to keep his eyes to himself but would inevitably find himself staring at her, almost in awe, in amazement that a beautiful creature like her had entered his life. He would stare and think about her. He would wonder what she would be like in bed, then he would push the thought from his mind. He would idealize about the kind of wife she would be and how she wouldn’t gripe about doing the laundry or making dinner. But she’d never have to do his laundry or make dinner. He would hire a maid for her. He would give her everything she wanted if she would just be his.
She couldn’t be his, though. He belonged to someone else. Someone else had his nights and weekends and holidays. While that someone else had once dominated his thoughts, had once soured his disposition, she was now being replaced by another, by someone new.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Kathleen asked one day.
He looked down and muttered, “Nothing much, I don’t suppose.”
“Oh,” she said and smiled. “Well, I was thinking if you would like, you could have dinner with me. I mean, with me and my family.”
“Uh, thank you anyway, Kathleen, but I can’t.”
Her smile disappeared for a second but then she managed regain it and backed out of the room, muttering something about letting him know if he needed her.
He wanted to call out to her and say he’d love to have Thanksgiving dinner with her, but he couldn’t. He was having it with Elka and though he would have loved to include Kathleen, Elka didn’t do well with guests.
How he wished he would have the opportunity to make those kinds of memories. But he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t touch her and he couldn’t ask her to dinner and he certainly couldn’t kiss her, though these things were heavy on his mind from morning to night, especially the kissing. He ached to hold her and just press his lips on top of hers. But he couldn’t make that first move. He just couldn’t. But he didn’t have to because it would be her, not him, that would make the first move.
*
“I’ll be working through lunch today,” John said.
“Would you like me to pick you up a sandwich?” Kathleen asked.
He smiled. “That would be nice.”
“Be back in a flash,” she said and turned on her heel and dashed out of the room.
John dropped his head and smiled to himself, then got back to work. True to her word, about twenty minutes later, Kathleen was back with two sandwiches and two sodas.
“I thought I might eat with you today, if you don’t mind,” she said and blushed a little. “I get lonely eating all by myself at my desk.”
“Oh?” he said quietly and took the sandwich, making sure to avoid her eyes. He could tell she was beginning to really like him and he didn’t know if he could handle that. Of course, he wanted her to like him as much as he liked her, but the thought was a little suffocating. He’d never met anyone like her before.
She nodded then sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk and pulled it up, making a place for her sandwich and drink. They ate in silence for a moment or two before she perked up and began to ask him questions, beginning with, “How old are you, Mr. Cashman?”
He swallowed hard and said, “Thirty-eight.”
She smiled. “Why don’t you ask me how old I am?”
“How old are you, Kathleen?”
“Twenty-six,” she said and smiled. “You never asked me if I was married, either.”
“I didn’t see a ring,” he said and almost smiled to himself for being so quick.
She giggled. “No, I don’t have a ring anymore.”
“Oh?”
She looked away from him and their sandwiches, then turned back to him. “You never asked me why I came to work here.”
“I didn’t?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Well, I suppose that’s your business, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yeah, it is, but I don’t mind telling you.”
He stared at her, wondering what she was about to confess.
“It’s just…” She paused and thought for a moment before continuing, “Well, it’s just I had to come to work. I needed the money.”
“Umm, hmm,” he muttered, hanging on her every word.
“I was married once before,” she said. “I know that most men don’t want anything to do with a woman who’s been married before.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “I don’t think it is anyway.”
She nodded. “I didn’t have much choice, you see. He… Uh, he was a drunk and, umm…”
He nodded for her to go on.
“He beat me,” she said and nodded rapidly. “He did. I don’t tell many people that ’cause they usually don’t understand. It’s hard, though, it’s hard when that happens.”
A pained look crossed her face and he felt pain at her confession. He was at a loss for words, too. What did you say to someone who just confessed something so terrible? For a second, he wanted to hunt the bastard down and do something about what he had done to her. How could a man rationalize hurting a woman, especially a woman like her, so small and seemingly vulnerable? But what could he say? What could he do? Nothing really. “Sorry” wouldn’t begin to cover it.
“I hated that I had to end it,” she said. “But my mama said if I didn’t I’d probably end up dead. I don’t know why I stayed so long, either. We were married when I was sixteen. We were together almost ten years.”
“I’m sorry,” John replied, not really knowing what else to say. “I’m sure you stayed because you loved him.”
“Not after a while,” she said matter-of-factly. “To be honest, I don’t know if I ever really loved him. I don’t think I ever felt that way; it was more like I had to have him rather than I just loved him. I mean, I wanted him, but I don’t think I loved him. I was young and just didn’t know any better. Do you understand that?”
“I think so,” he said and smiled gently at her.
She nodded and took a quick bite of her sandwich and said while chewing, covering her mouth with one hand, “I feel much better now, though. I lived through it and now I might have a chance to find someone better.”
Out of nowhere, she smiled at him then leaned over and touched his hand lightly, then withdrew it quickly, as if she had just realized the depth of her words and action.
John felt the impact of her words and touch physically. His heart began to beat rapidly and though he knew she was just being friendly, he wondered if there were more behind her words. Was she talking about him? He asked, “Excuse me?”
She stared at him with wide eyes, swallowed hard and said, “What did I say?”
“Nothing,” he said and shook his head, hoping that she’d overlook him. He had gotten his hopes up and felt like an idiot. She was a touchy-feeling kind of person. She patted backs and gave hugs to the women and smiled at everyone. That was just her. His face felt hot as the flush of embarrassment crept in.
She stared at him then understood what had happened. She gulped and stood, gathering her sandwich. “Oh, it’s nothing. I didn’t mean… No. Not that. Sorry. I’m sorry it’s not like that. I think I’ll finish my lunch at my desk, Mr. Cashman.”
“It’s okay, Kathleen,” he said, though his heart was still in his throat. “You can eat in here.”
“No, no, it’s fine,
” she said and went to the door and forgot to open it and bumped into it.
John felt himself rising up out of his seat and going to her. He didn’t know what had overcome him; it was like a spirit was guiding him. He had to be a man in that moment and he had to go to her. He was suddenly at her side and taking her hand. “It’s okay, Kathleen.”
She stared up at him as tears formed in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t! I just have such a big mouth and stuff pops out of it. It’s like I can’t control it sometimes.”
He nodded. “But did you mean it? Were you talking about me?”
She looked to the side, then back at him. “I did mean it. I did.”
She did. She had been talking about him, someone better. His heart leapt. He was the better someone and that made him feel like a new man, a man who was wanted by a woman like her.
“Oh, Mr. Cashman, I’m sorry,” she said in a nervous twitter. “I don’t mean to be one of those women who falls in love with their bosses. I just need a job, you know?”
“I know,” he said. “You won’t lose your job, Kathleen.”
She smiled a little and then she was on her tiptoes and she was pushing her lips towards his and he was bending down and the moment just overcame them. In that moment, with that first kiss, which made his spine tingle and his heart turn somersaults in joy, he finally discovered what he’d been missing all those years.
He didn’t mean to keep kissing her. His intention was just to have her come back and finish her sandwich. But soon, the sandwich slipped out of her hand and her arms were around his neck, pulling him closer and closer into her. It was a deep, passionate kiss and the first of many they would share. It made John realize a few things. Firstly, he was in love. Secondly, he didn’t think he could get enough of her. Thirdly, he didn’t care what happened as long as she returned his love. And she did.
New Love
As their love blossomed, John was never happier. It was a new love, a new feeling he’d never experienced before. He thought about Kathleen all the time and wanted to be near her as much as possible. He didn’t realize a person could be this happy and for the first time understood why there were so many books and movies and love songs dedicated to the subject.
But he still had a secret, his sister. He didn’t want to tell Kathleen about Elka. He didn’t want to her to know because if she knew, she might not want him anymore. She might think that mental illness ran in his family and that he might eventually succumb. So, he told her they had to keep their relationship “quiet.” She didn’t question it. She didn’t care. She was in love and spending most of her time with the man she wanted.
Over time, their relationship progressed to a more physical level. John found himself wanting her all the time. Kathleen returned the sentiment. They would sneak off during the afternoon to hotels or sometimes to her small apartment. They would lock the door of his office and have at it. They would be business-like towards each other at all other times but most everyone knew what was going on. And everyone seemed to approve, mostly because John’s attitude improved and the supervisors liked a happy boss rather than a grumpy one. If they could have encouraged it, they would have. But they kept their mouths shut because, well, it was a secret affair.
And it being secret made it all the more tantalizing.
Sometimes John would think those “what if” thoughts. He had always done this, but found himself doing it more and more, thinking thoughts, crazy thoughts like what if he just happened to “forget” to give Elka her pills? She might run away, or, perhaps, become suicidal. Or what if he “accidentally” gave her too many? What would happen then? Would his life suddenly become easier?
He would chase these thoughts out of his head and wonder how he could be so cold and cruel. But this thing he was experiencing with Kathleen was driving all logic from his mind. He wasn’t rationalizing anymore; he was trying to find a way to have what he wanted, at any cost. And what he wanted was Kathleen, all the time.
But what if he didn’t go home one day? Like today? What if he left his office and just didn’t go home? What if he just “forgot” to go home? What would Elka do then? Would she harm herself, burn down the house? He shook the thought from his head and tried to concentrate on the work on his desk, but his thoughts kept going back to the extreme, to the selfish.
“What are you thinking about?” Kathleen asked suddenly.
John started and stared at her, standing next to his desk. He hadn’t even heard her come in. He smiled in spite of himself and that was her cue to come to him. He opened his arms and she sat in his lap, putting her arms around his neck.
“What were thinking about?” she asked again.
“Just about you,” he said and his face heated up in embarrassment. He’d never been such a flirt but with her it was easy and he wanted to play along, mostly because he knew she liked it.
“Aww,” she said and nuzzled his neck. “It’s almost quitting time. How about some dinner?”
He froze and shook his head.
She pulled back and said, “You never want to eat dinner with me. Why?”
“I have things to do, that’s all.”
“They can wait,” she said.
“No, they can’t,” he said and looked at the clock. It was past six. He had to get home soon or Elka really would burn the house down.
“Come to dinner with me,” she said in a demanding tone he hadn’t heard before.
“I can’t,” he said.
“You never take me out,” she said a little angrily. “Are you sure you’re not married?”
“I’m sure,” he said.
“But you have a girlfriend, don’t you?” she asked, getting almost hysterical. “I’m just your piece on the side!”
“I can assure you that you are not just my piece on the side.”
She jumped up off his lap and said, “Then what am I? An easy lay, is that it? Are you ashamed of me?”
“No!” he exclaimed, feeling so much frustration.
“Then what is it?” she asked and glared at him. “You don’t take me anywhere, you don’t buy me things and you never introduce me to your friends.”
“I don’t have any friends,” he told her.
She started to say something, then stopped. Then she said, “I have some friends. We can go out with them, John.”
“I can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry but I can’t.”
“Why not?” she asked.
Why not? He thought about that and realized it was because he didn’t want anyone too close to him. He didn’t want anyone knowing how bad Elka really was. If he went out with Kathleen and her friends, they’d start to ask questions; it was human nature to be curious. He was a bad liar and he knew they wouldn’t believe any of the details he might make up about his home life.
Also, he didn’t want Kathleen showing up to the house one day and him not being there only to be greeted by Elka. How would he explain that? And what if Elka hurt Kathleen? She could. She’d hurt him several times. A couple of years ago out of nowhere she’d grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter and just came at him, stabbing him deeply in the arm. He’d bled for hours before calling Elka’s doctor, the one who’d treated her since she’d gone mad. He came over to the house and stitched him up. The doctor had shaken his head at the situation and told him he didn’t know how he did it. John had replied, “Well, I don’t know either. Sometimes I could just kill her,” and laughed a little to diffuse the situation. The old doctor had looked up at him and replied, “If it ever comes to that, you come to me first. No sense in going that far, John.”
John had assured the doctor that it would never come to that, that he could handle Elka, but the old doctor told him, “There are times when things can get out of hand. I have been in medicine a long time and I can understand what a burden this can become. You can’t let things get away from you. Don’t let that happen, John. You hear me? She can be dangerous and if you do something to her… Well, God help you. That woul
d be a damned shame.”
John tried not to think about that. But he did understand what the old doctor was saying and what he was saying was if something got out of hand and John ended up hurting Elka, his life would be over. He shuddered at the thought.
“John?” Kathleen said. “Why not?”
He shrugged, unable to think of an answer that would suit the situation. It was a cowardly thing to do, but he hated lying. He hated the truth even worse.
“I don’t… Do you…” she stopped, becoming more and more frustrated. “Oh, to hell with you, John Cashman!”
And she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.
He jumped up and followed her. “Kathleen, hold up!”
But she was gone, gone for the day. Through the open door, he saw her disappear down the hall, pulling on her coat.
“Damn it,” he muttered and went back into his office, slamming the door. He sat down and put his head in his hands. This wasn’t working; it was already becoming too complicated. Of course, it always came back to his sister, to Elka. Everything in his life was affected by her somehow.
Still, his mother’s voice came back to him, “John, take good care of her for me, keep people away from her. I won’t have her talked about and they would talk about her, John. Protect her for me. Will you do that, honey?”
“Yes,” he had said, not realizing what she asking and the price he would have to pay for his commitment.
“To hell with it,” he said aloud and got up from his desk, grabbed his things and went home. Once there, he found Elka dancing wildly in the sitting room, the old phonograph blaring. As she danced in circles he stared at her and felt a hate begin to stir inside him. She—she!—was keeping it from him! She with the idiot face on today, she acting all nice today, today of all days, for once in her life. She was staring at him with that idiotic smile. He hated that; it was so put-on.