by Clara Nipper
Alistair sat on the couch in a half-lotus with his laptop perched on his legs. He was humming.
“Pretty nice, huh?” I gestured to the clean room and the power. Alistair didn’t respond, his gleeful hum like happily darting magpies.
Sophie emerged, looking fresh and pink. The bathrobe she had on was so large and thick, I could only see her eyes and forehead. “Very nice,” she said, smiling for the first time in days. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I approached and embraced her.
“We can’t…Alistair.” Sophie said, stiffening in my arms. I parted the edges of her robe like flower petals. The warm, clean fragrance that rose off her skin intoxicated me. I traced my fingertip from her breastbone to her collarbone to her throat to her chin. “He is in cyberspace. He wouldn’t notice now if we buggered the Queen right here.” I tilted her chin and lowered my mouth to hers. Her mouth met mine eagerly. There were no fireworks. Instead, it was a passion so languid, it was like thick syrup filling our veins, rising sweetly, slowly, like sap, making every muscle turgid with desire. It was a lazy river of lust, and we floated, too drugged on bliss to have any urgency. I pulled away and blinked my eyes like a sleepy lizard in the sun. Sophie had the secret smile of a sloth. We clasped hands and let go. That’s all the agreement we needed. I caressed Sophie’s shell pink cheek. “Alistair? I’m going to make love to Sophie tonight.” My eyes never left her face.
Humming. Keyboard clicks.
“I’m going to pleasure her until she begs for mercy.” I stroked Sophie’s ear. She blushed, closed her robe, and tightened it again and walked to the bedroom. “See you in a minute!” I called, dancing on euphoric bubbles.
“No, you won’t, not yet!” Sophie answered and I heard her deadbolt the door.
“Aw, fuck!” I said to Alistair. “Can you believe that shit?”
Keyboard clicks. Tuneless humming.
“You’re a zombie and she still wants to wait! I cannot survive these blue balls!” I cupped my crotch and flopped on the couch with the TV remote.
“Jill? You say something, mate?” Alistair looked genuinely surprised.
“Not a word,” I said, changing channels. There was nothing on but dire weather predictions and reality shows. I found a channel on which a local news anchor was announcing that Rick Goodson was being released and no charges would be filed. Rage replaced desire instantly. I automatically fumbled for my phone to call the chief before I remembered. “Goddammit! Goddammit!” I jabbed Alistair with my elbow. “Does Sophie have a land line?”
“What makes you think I would know? Ask her.”
I stormed to Sophie’s bedroom door and pounded on it.
“Who is it?” Sophie called sweetly.
“Your future,” I said.
“I can’t open the door. I want to be surprised.”
“Oh, you will be! I need a land line. You have one hidden somewhere?”
“Why don’t you go home already?”
“Why don’t you put out already?”
“Good one,” Sophie said sarcastically. “Just a minute.” When she opened the door, she was still wrapped in the robe that was as large as a comforter. She turned on a flashlight and went to another room to search for a phone. I didn’t follow because I didn’t trust myself and didn’t need any more misery. Sophie returned with a beige push button desk model phone. She went to the living room, plugged the cord into the wall, and set the phone on the side table.
“How old is this thing?” I asked.
“Really? And where’s your phone?”
I sat down, picked up the handset, punched in the numbers, and waited. “This phone is dead!” I said, slamming it down so hard the bell chimed.
Sophie and Alistair both burst out laughing. “What did you expect, Jill? That I have land line service on tap? Would you like to send a telegram? How about a fax?”
“Fuck you both. And the horses you rode in on.”
“Leave the horses out of this,” Alistair said.
“Anything else, Jill?” Sophie asked. Without waiting for my reply, she said, “Excellent. Good night.”
“I’m going for a walk,” I said to Alistair.
“Mind your knickers, won’t you?” Alistair said as I closed the front door behind me.
“I’m trapped in hell,” I said to myself. “Something’s got to give.”
The icy black night was so quiet, it pressed on my eardrums. The darkness was deep, palpable, and ominous without porch lights, streetlights, city lights, and traffic. Suddenly, I didn’t want to move off the porch. What had seemed like hell a few seconds ago now seemed like heaven with lights and a fire and shelter from this brutal weather. I didn’t know what to do, but sleeping seemed like a good solution.
“Back already?” Alistair asked as I stood with my back to the roaring fire.
“It’s cold,” I answered.
Alistair regarded me over reading glasses that had slid down his regal nose. “That’s one thing about you Americans. A firm grasp on the obvious.”
“Don’t start,” I groaned. “Make me a sandwich.”
Alistair laughed and began typing again.
“Worth a shot,” I said. I wrapped a thick comforter around myself, beat a pillow into submission, and curled into the wingback.
Sophie shook me awake. “Jesus, Jill, your snoring is moving the furniture. Wake up.”
“Sorry.” I stretched and felt everything pop.
“Here, I went out for gas for the generator and picked up something for you.” She handed me a cell phone.
“Hot damn!” I said. “I’ve got my life back!” I stood, grabbed her, and kissed her forehead. “Can I shower?”
“It’s an order. Brush your teeth too,” Sophie said. “Wait for Alistair to finish. Want some breakfast? We can have toast now.”
“No, just some coffee. We can have actual brewed coffee now, right? Not just that instant powder shit?”
“Ground the beans myself not an hour ago.”
I dashed into the kitchen realizing for the first time how much I had missed the smell and even the sound of coffee. Without it, the air seemed dull and depressing, the hours a long trudge to a dead end, but that fragrance meant everything was okay. The day would be orderly and successful and pleasurable. Coffee completed the morning and filled in everything that was missing.
I searched the cabinets until I found the largest tanker I could and poured the coffee pot’s entire contents into it. I found sugar and poured that in until I saw the fluid rise an inch. Then I stirred and tasted. Perfect.
“Cream?” Sophie asked, offering a carton from the fridge.
“That’s right! We can have dairy now.” I took the cream and poured until the coffee turned the color of Penelope’s skin.
“I have a paint bucket that is larger than that if you’d prefer,” Sophie said, raising an eyebrow at my huge mug.
“No, I think sixty-four ounces will be just fine for my first serving.” I gulped the scalding liquid. I sighed happily. “This makes everything better. I just need some cigarettes. How’s the weather?” I asked, thinking that I would have to go out for tobacco and supplies.
“It’s actually thirty degrees today, so if the sun comes out, the ice will start melting.”
I grinned, feeling as fine as a plump puppy. “I’m gonna call the chief; I’m gonna do some heavy brainstorming in the bathroom on Perryman; I’m gonna rent a car; I’m gonna get tobacco, and then I’m gonna call Penelope.”
Sophie stared at me through half lids, her eyes as flat as dull pennies. “Then you need to go home.”
“I’m not like you. I can’t go all year without the good thing. I’m no sexual camel.”
“Fine. Give me that coffee and get out.” Sophie took my mug before I could register what was happening. She held the cup high over her head and poured the coffee down the sink in a dramatic arc.
“What…?” I stared disbelievingly at my empty hands, my mouth still tingling with the left
over flavor of my perfect coffee.
“Are you just about stupid?” Sophie said and stormed from the room.
I shrugged and began grinding beans for a fresh pot. Sophie reappeared in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. Anger sizzled and snapped off her skin and hair, but she was dead calm. She pointed at the coffee maker with her chin. “I wouldn’t.”
I stopped. “Then what? You want me to marry you for coffee?”
“Get over yourself. Just go home. You can have all the coffee and hussy pussy you want.”
“I can’t have you,” I said.
“Not yet.”
“No,” I cried. “No! I can’t live on hope and promises. I won’t pledge myself to you for nothing. Either we are together and all that means or we are not.”
“You are positively puerile.”
“You still want me.” I turned to her and grinned, my hypnotic and undulating desire enveloping us both.
“Not like this. I’ve told you! Why can’t you understand? Why can’t you just be decent and let the airport open and Alistair go home? Do you really want to be that cruel?”
“Why can’t he be decent and get a hotel near the airport? Why is he still here?”
“Really? You’re still here.” Sophie’s eyes blazed. “I’ve dumped him and now you want me to kick him out in the ice storm? Is that who you are?”
“It’s him or me.”
“But Alistair and I are not together!” Sophie said.
“If you don’t choose me now, you never will,” I said, an icy chill invading my blood. “There will always be something in the way.”
“Oh, come on!” Sophie said. “Be fair!”
“Be brave,” I said coldly.
“I can’t believe it. This is the line you want to draw?”
I crossed my arms and traced my toe along the floor between us.
“Be careful, Jill,” Sophie whispered, her voice a plea. “What you do now cannot be undone.” Sophie’s cheeks were magenta with the effort not to cry.
My eyes glittered with tears too, but I was a solid iceberg. I don’t know where this ultimatum came from, but I was sticking to it. Don’t you know I’m in love with you? My collarbones cried. Don’t you know I’m afraid of being hurt so I’m testing you? My arms insisted. Don’t you know I’m sick of waiting and limbo? My hip bones murmured.
“Don’t do this,” Sophie said, tears tracing a straight stream down her face.
I blinked. I was far away and numb. I traced my toe on the invisible but fatal line once more. Sophie released an anguished cry and ran from the room.
I packed the few items I had into my parka pockets. I upended the empty coffee tanker into my mouth to catch any leftover drops, and I closed Sophie’s front door behind me.
The sun was out and the top layer of ice was beginning to dissolve into slush. If I couldn’t find a ride, I would hitchhike. I pressed Marny’s number into the phone Sophie bought me and felt so guilty, I almost ran back and apologized. But my stubborn, proud streak decided just to pay Sophie for the phone.
I knocked on the door. When Sophie opened it, her face brightened. “Jill…I—”
“For the phone.” I thrust some bills into her hand. She shook her head, her face breaking apart. She closed the door gently without speaking. The bills lay in wads on the icy walk. I left them. Finally, Marny answered my call.
“Come get me,” I said, my voice sadder than I realized.
“Oh, bubby, be right there,” Marny said. I sat on the curb and waited, feeling like I was drowning in regret. I kept gasping for air. I didn’t know how to undo any of my foolish mess, and I was afraid to try.
Chapter Twenty-nine
A rusty dented minivan finally pulled up and stopped.
“What the hell is this?” I opened the passenger door with a hard tug and a loud screech.
“My nephew’s. Where to?”
“Penelope’s.”
Marny began driving. I closed my eyes to try to contain my pain. Why had I done that stupid standoff?
I was such a shit! Why would anyone care about me? But I had been lucky enough to nearly capture the heart of that incredible woman who had been generous enough to take me in, and I go cave man on her. I moaned, reliving that shameful scene. If only I could have another chance! I would swear to be good and wait as long as she wanted, and Alistair could live with us if he so desired. But I really screwed it up. I kept replaying the vision of Sophie’s hopeful face when she opened the door and me, a knuckle-dragging Grade-A asshole shoving money at her. Sophie closing the door so quietly was an ominous sign of her resignation.
I had showed her the truth of my small selfish soul, and I would never be trusted again. She had even warned me! And what did I get for my stubbornness? Me—single, lonely, cold, heartbroken, and made even worse by the knowledge that this had been preventable, and it was entirely my fault. Oh, that burned like karmic acid. I opened my eyes to tell Marny to take me home instead of to Penelope’s, and I saw that she had parked in front of Sophie’s.
“Here we are!” Marny trilled.
My limbs were granite. “I can’t go back there.”
“Just put me out of my misery. I’ve never seen you like this over any quim. So go make up already. No amount of Penelopes can help you now.”
“No.”
Marny rolled down her window and awkwardly climbed out, her quilted ski pants hooking briefly on a piece of protruding metal. “Door won’t open,” she explained. “Either you’re coming with or I’m going alone, but I can’t take anymore of this twat opera!”
“I fell on my sword. It’s too late.”
“We’ll see.” Marny trudged up the steps. I checked the ignition. Damn! She took the keys so I couldn’t drive. I curled into a ball of embarrassment and tried to will myself dead. In spite of the blinding sun and the sounds of ice dripping and crashing to the ground all over the neighborhood, a bone chill began invading me like a creeping exhaustion. I couldn’t wait much longer. I would start walking and Marny could find me. As I began stretching to get out and take off, Marny and Sophie walked to the van. I tensed, automatically putting my hand on my holster and realizing what an idiotic thing that was, removed my hand, and just sat, jaws clenched. Zippo. Zippo. Zippo. Marny motioned for me to get out. I rolled my eyes, hit the door with my shoulder, and leaned against the van with my arms crossed and stared at my boots, finger flipping my Zip.
Marny clapped once. “Jill, I understand you’ve made an ass of yourself again and that you would like to make amends?” she asked sweetly.
Sophie, her face closed and wintry, just stared ice picks at me.
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Yes, what?” Marny prompted.
“Yes, I fucked up. Yes, I want to apologize.” I answered, not daring to look at Sophie. Click open. Click closed. I fumbled my last cigarette out of the case, bit it, lit it, and puffed nervously.
“And, Sophie, are you willing to overlook this baboon behavior, be the bigger person yet again, and forgive this blockhead once more so we can all get on with our lives?”
Sophie paused. Time stretched into a sharp, thin wire. Ice slid off roofs and tree limbs and smashed to the ground in arctic explosions all around us. Otherwise, the city was dead quiet. I couldn’t even hear Sophie’s generator. I finished my cigarette, licked my thumb and forefinger, and pinched out the roach. I could feel the pulse of each passing second with my heartbeat. I couldn’t stand this. “Fuck it!” I yelled. “Marny, get your ass in gear and take me home now!”
“Fine!” Sophie screamed, the veins bulging in her sweet stem of throat, “who needs you?”
“Okay,” Marny said, “let’s begin again. Jill, do you promise not to be a horse’s ass for the next two…no, the next minute?”
I glanced at Sophie, who was almost smiling. “I do,” I said.
“And, Sophie, do you promise to stand here for the next minute?”
“I do,” Sophie said.
“Well, all
right! Jill, please think about your words very carefully, not just twice but three times before you speak any aloud and tell Sophie what is going on.”
I took a breath. “Sophie, I—”
“That’s good, Jill. Stop there,” Marny said. Sophie smirked. “Okay, Jill, ready?” Marny asked. “Keep going.”
“Fine,” I said. “Sophie, I—”
“Jill, I think it’s time to remind you to speak carefully,” Marny said.
I nodded. “Sophie—”
“Jill,” Marny warned me, “easy. Kind. Like you’re speaking to a newborn. Or a preacher. Or a newborn preacher.”
I drew my finger across my throat at Marny. Sophie, arms locked over her body, full of amused skepticism, waited. A tree limb fell to the ground, making all of us jump. What should I say? Should I explain my fears? Be casual? Cool? Rational? Lie and blame it on hormones? Blame it on my job? Beg? Or a straight up apology? I had to be cool. I couldn’t be naked and vulnerable out here, in front of Marny.
“Sophie,” I began again.
“Newborn preacher,” Marny said.
I stood in front of that glorious woman and raised my arms and shoulders in a shrug. Sophie lifted her eyebrows, her mouth puckering. Sophie began to turn away, and I dropped to the ice in desperate supplication. My trousers were soaked immediately. The cold wetness felt good on my nervous, overheated knees. “I’m in love with you! You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved and you’re all I want. I’m scared and difficult and frequently a jerk!” I shouted.
“Creep,” Marny added.
“Creep too,” I said. “I am so crazy about you, it makes me cuckoo. If I weren’t completely sprung, all this would be easy. But it’s serious, so I sabotage it,” I called to Sophie’s back, “and I might not be worth it!”
“Good! Good, Jill!” Marny said. “Sophie, I don’t know you well, but I do know this. You are way out of Jill’s league. You are not even on the same planet. In her finest dreams, she is nowhere close to being good enough for you.”
