by Lass Small
The men went along exchanging sly looks and licked grins. Then Bob was in the storage room and a mouse went up the leg of his pants! Talk about hysteria! It took five guys to get Bob’s pants off and try to find the mouse...which had escaped.
After that, the men were more careful. And they didn’t smile and cough as much.
Tom asked Ellen, “You ’scared of mice?”
“I had one as a pet once and—”
He was shocked. “You did?”
She nodded. “The kids came home with me after school so they could see him. He was quite comfortable with a group.”
“What happened to him?”
“He had babies.”
Tom blinked. Then his grin began. “Who was the daddy?”
“My father was curious, but mother was appalled there’d be another mouse around.”
“What did you do with the litter?”
“For a while I had all sorts of sudden friends who wanted to help me with the babies. Daddy thought it was cute, but Mother hated all of those mice.”
“What happened?”
“Daddy eventually sold the mice to a pet shop.”
“Were you sorry?”
She said, “Without the mice, I became ordinary in the eyes of my fellow students.”
He tilted his head back a tad and looked at her. He said softly, “I just wonder what sort of stupid students you had to cope with.”
She looked at him differently.
Six
As the days passed, Ellen’s emotional base began to gradually heal. She didn’t offer any comment or criticism or advice, but she listened. She became interested. She smiled.
It took Tom a while, but he realized that the whole, entire crew—male and female—did whatever they could to garner Ellen’s attention. Especially, her smile.
When a man is trying for a woman, he’ll always notice if other people are vying for her attention. And women! That was interesting. They wanted to be friends with Ellen.
Men’s approach was mostly different. They wanted her admiration. Even the happily married ones.
But Tom realized the women were including Ellen gradually. They liked her. It wasn’t something Tom’s mother had initiated—Or was it?
Who could figure out Tom’s mother? Not Tom.
With all the interest in Ellen and the inclusion of her in whatever, Tom had some problem getting her to himself. He got bolder. He said, “I have something to show you.” And the whole entire crew came along!
Once he asked Ellen, “Want to see the new baby chicks?” And he thought he’d spoken low enough that only she heard him, but again the entire batch of people came along.
They went out to one of the barns to see the chirping chicks and the agitated, clucking hens.
Tom told the others, “Take a peek and go on or she’ll move the babies.” He said that while holding on to Ellen with an unlockable hand. When she tried to indicate that she wanted her arm back, he said to just her, “Be quiet.”
A tad indignant, she retorted, “I need that arm!”
“For...what?”
“So’s I can move!”
He was indignant in turn as he asked, “Why do you need to move?”
“To see the chicks.” She was patient and logical.
“I’ll take you in when this invasion is gone. If you recall, I only asked you to come along, not this whole mob of people!”
“You have to be more subtle.”
“How!”
“You ask me to see a longhorn or a bluebonnet or something like that?”
He was disgusted. “If I said anything like that, they’d think I was taking you into one of the barn lofts.”
“No!” Ellen gasped in shock.
“Yep. They’re all of one mind.” And he looked off nobly into the distance.
Since Ellen was coming out of it and realizing what was going on around her again, she watched Tom while she bit her lip to stop her smile. He was such a dear person.
He was sexually stretched and hurting. She would give him...ease. She would be kind. That would release him from the need he endured. He could relax. And he would realize she was not for him.
That evening, after dinner, Ellen said it was time for her to go to bed. She turned her big eyes up to Tom and smiled just a tad.
How odd. A sweep of the most amazing thrill went through her body! The rush was so astonishing that it wiped her face blank. It parted her lips, which had turned quite red. Her eyes were odd. Unfocused.
She was so startled and astonished by such a wave of emotion that she faced the fact that she might not have recovered from her grief, after all.
Something was pounding her. Her heart was a little off kilter, her breathing was odd. She felt somewhat strange.
She looked at Tom.
He was looking around as if to find a stretcher for her. But he courteously tugged her along the room and out into the hall. He said to her, “Let’s go to my room.”
She nodded soberly. It would be quieter at that time of the evening. She could go to her own room after all the people left.
One of the men asked with twinkling eyes and a snide smile, “Where you going?”
Just like that, Tom retorted, “To the library. We have a disagreement.”
Ellen had heard. So they weren’t going to Tom’s room after all? Well...how odd. They were going to a—library? Since there were all those tucked away libraries of varying sizes all over the house, Tom could mean just about anything!
They went to his room.
That was a surprise.
As he closed and locked the door, she said, “I thought—”
—and he pulled her against him and kissed her. He groaned and rubbed his hands possessively over her back in hard holdings. He trembled. His breathing was odd.
She asked, “Are you all right?”
He replied, “Soon, now.”
She had had two men in her lifetime. One in college and that had been messy and really awful. Then Phillip had been so careful of her and tender...and quick...and selfish. Now was her third.
Third.
This was Tom Keeper. The third man to know her body.
She didn’t resist. She quietly sighed and waited for the coupling with the rough, panting of a hungry male who would use her quickly and roll off to go to sleep.
Tom asked, “You okay?” And he bent over to look into her still face.
“Let’s get it over with.”
The words had just come out of her mouth. Tom was startled. Even more seriously, he asked, “What’s s wrong?”
She shrugged.
Carefully, he asked, “Would you rather not?”
“It’s okay. Let’s get it done.”
Now that didn’t sound at all eager to Tom. He said, “Whoa, now. Let’s back up and look at this. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’ve done this before, as you know. It’s no big deaL”
His sex about went into a frantic overdrive. But Tom looked seriously at Ellen and asked gently, “What’s wrong?”
She flared her eyes in indignation as she retorted in variation, “Let’s get it over with.”
He stopped her disrobing and picked her up to carry her around. Then his breathing slowed enough so that he could say, “We’ll talk.”
He sat down on his rocking chair and held her on his berserk lap. Her bottom squashed the rigid Hunter and held him still.
Tom asked, “What’s all this about ‘—getting it over with.’”
“It’s quick.”
Tom’s voice was gentle. “Not... necessarily.”
“You mean some men can’t do it right away? That would be a bore.”
“You don’t enjoy sex?”
She moved around and sighed and turned her head about forty different ways. She said, “No. I suppose women don’t.”
“Why not?”
She was impatient. “Men are awkward or too fast.”
Softly, Tom questioned, “Or unknowing or sel
fish?”
The two words went into Ellen’s mind. Unknowing? Selfish? She turned her head and asked, “Do you mean men are stupid?”
“Unknowing. Unaware. Selfish.”
“Then—”
“A woman needs love. I love you. I want to please your body. I want to make love with you.”
“How’d you learn all that.” It was not a question. And she was very withdrawn and a tad hostile. “You’re really triggered. I can tell from your breathing.”
He said, “I love you.”
“Balderdash.”
He laughed softly. “Where’d you find that word?”
“My grandmother.”
“It’s a dandy. So you think my love is—balderdash?”
“All men tell a woman they love them when they just want sex.”
“And, if there’re complications—they want out?”
“Yes.” It was a brave, instant response. “Like Phillip.”
Tom said, “I guess that I’ll have to court you a little more so that you can realize that I love you. And—”
“All men use that word. It isn’t true.”
Tom sighed. “You know I’ve been amusing all the house and area men with running at night so that I can sleep?”
“Why.”
“Because I haven’t gotten into bed with you. I really love you. I’ve been seriously courting you. Do you want to relieve me now or would you prefer to wait until after we’re married?”
“You’d...marry me?”
“Why else would I’ve been paying you all these attentions?”
“You want to be in my bed.”
He heard the disgust and rejection. He kept her from leaving his lap. He said, “I love you. I want to be with you. I want to laugh with you and tell you what happens in a day, and I want to hear how your day has gone and what all you’ve done. And I want to make love to you so that you hold me against you and sigh in contentment.”
“Who all’s done that with you?”
“My daddy and mama told me those things. It’s how their life is. I want our lives to be that way.”
She said nothing. But he could see the tears on her lashes as she sighed, sitting there on his lap.
He asked, “Are you a cold woman?”
“Probably.”
“Can you warm up enough to like me?”
“I doubt it. I believe sex is probably the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
“But you wanted the baby.”
“Yes.”
“Did you also want the man who gave the baby to you?”
“No.”
“Could you ever love me?”
“You’re very kind. You sit here and hold me without doing anything to my body except to hold it carefully. When will you decide that you want my body and just—take me?”
“When you ask me to.”
She made a rude sound of dismissal.
“Can you stand for me to hold you this way?”
“I’m comfortable.”
“You’re so tense, none of your muscles are relaxed. You’re as stiff as a poker. Why are you that way?”
“I’m waiting for you to pounce on me and take me.”
“What if I wait until you want me?”
She shrugged. “I never will. I—dislike—sex. I—don’t—want it—at all. You’re a good man. You’ve been kind to me. I will allow you the release. Do you have a condom?”
He tilted back his head and closed his eyes. He breathed through his mouth. He didn’t move.
She asked, “What’s the matter.”
“My body wants you.”
“Well—go ahead. I’ll let you.”
He shook his head.
She shifted restlessly on his lap, which stimulated Hunter quite shockingly.
She said, “You need the release. Go ahead.”
“I don’t want a—telease. I want to make love with you.”
She burst into tears.
He held her and soothed her. He kissed her wet cheek. He shifted and got out another clean handkerchief and did a lousy job of wiping her tears.
She took the handkerchief and cried into it.
“I’ve never before told a woman I loved her and had her burst out crying thisaway. How come you’re crying? Do you dislike me that much?”
She sobbed with her face in her handkerchief covered hands.
He asked, “Why are you crying? You’ve already rejected me. Does that make you sad? Why?”
With bumpy hiccups and gasping sighs she said, “I suspect you’re a fine man.”
“Well, I’ve been told that I’m the best thing that ever came down the pike, and my parents have said that, so it must be true. Do you realize that maybe you ought to look me over again and see how perfect I am?”
“I’m not perfect.” She said that in a low, deadly serious voice.
“Well, you may not think so, but you are perfect. I like the way you smile. I love the way you tolerate that damned cat. You pitch in and help, without groaning or looking pitiful. There are a good many things you do that make me proud of you. I love you, Ellen. I have a bad case of you. If you reject me, I’ll leave you be, but I’ll probably never get over you.”
She cried.
He held her sweetly and hushed her, telling her that he understood and she wasn’t to cry about him beca—
“What do you mean you ‘understand’ that I’m crying for you, you idiot! I’m crying for me!”
He said, “Oh.”
That was about all he could think of to say at that time. She boggled him. She was unhappy about—herself? How come?
He asked her, “Now just tell me why the hell you’re unhappy?”
She bawled.
He became a tad annoyed and said, “You’re perfect, you’re beautiful, you can walk and talk and nobody notices you doing anything odd either way, what the hell have you to cry about?”
She sniffled and used his next clean handkerchief, quite easily taking it from him. She wiped her eyes and she considered his words. She said, “I don’t know why I’m crying. I suppose it’s because I’ve been so used and don’t want to be used again.”
“Who all’s done that?”
“Two men.” She adjusted it, “One young male and a grown man.”
“Just that makes you feel...used?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Naw. I’d forget it and go on. You only knew them in a small portion of your life. You give them up and just go on. There’s a whole lot out there waiting to be seen. Try it.”
“You’re asking me to leave here?”
“No. I’m suggesting you look around and see all the other people who have lived and learned. You need the learning part.”
“Go back to school?”
“Naw. See the world. Watch how people live. How they manage. What they do. How they react. You have a lot to learn. To accept. To understand.”
“Then...help me. I don’t know how to get started.”
He was silent as he took a deep and enduring breath.
She asked, “Does that kind of breath mean you’re irritated with me?”
“Don’t be so sure you’re the only subject on hand. I’m letting you go. It is one hell of a gift from me that I’ll let you roam loose and find out what life is all about.”
“You’re rude.”
“You have a long way to go before you understand people.”
She was indignant. “Of all things, I do understand people.”
“Understanding will be your first challenge. We’ll start with the women who live out this way and what they do.”
“I’ve helped give Angela a fifteen-minute break so she can breathe twice a day and not have the kids all over her.”
“Glory be.”
“That doesn’t sound at all kind. What are you saying?”
“Why don’t you take them away for a day and give her a real break?”
“No one mentioned that to me.”
“As I recall.”
He drawled that out somewhat. “You were very fragile when they limited it to just fifteen minutes.”
She lifted her head thoughtfully. “Your mama was being kind to me.”
“To you both. With the fifteen minutes, not only did Angela get a breather, but you got the good feeling of helping...for fifteen minutes.”
“What would your mama give me for help—now?”
“Let’s ask her.”
Ellen went over to the hospital and changed beds and emptied pans and gathered discarded clothes. She was taught what was washed and what was burned.
As she went along, the time expanded from a couple of hours to half a day...to a full day. For Ellen, it was satisfying. Oddly enough, she felt as if she was—healing. And it was clean beds, clean clothes, organization, neatness.
She still stayed at the Keepers. She told Tom what was going on and who was involved. She did not gossip. At all. She told the things that were done and why.
Ellen had never before done anything important. Nothing that helped. It was invigorating that she could see what she had done and how she had—helped.
Tom told her, “There are other people who need help...in another way.”
She asked, “Like Angela? I’ve worried about her.”
“Lu is helping her out.”
“Good for Lu.”
Tom expanded Ellen’s knowledge. “Lu was already sitting with the Beckers’ kids before she dragged you into helping.”
“Lu was? Why, how wonderful! I wondered why she was visiting with Angela while I was taking care of her kids.”
“That way, Angela could sit, relax, and talk with an adult.” Tom then added very gently, “Lu just about always went over and fixed lunch and fed the kids at that time while she and Angela talked.”
“Lu is a jewel.”
Tom told her, “So are you. You were so fragile, and you felt such sympathy for Angela. You went over there when you could hardly walk.”
Ellen’s eyes lowered as she glanced aside but she admitted, “I thought of my baby when I held hers.”
Gently, he promised, “We’ll have kids one way or another. And you can hold them all.”
She laughed. She did. She was so joyous that Tom’s eyes got wet. She didn’t actually notice.