by Robin Brande
“So, how long until you think they’ll restore power?” she asked.
“A day or two,” David said.
“Remember that ice storm in ’98?” Hildy said. “Power was out for three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” Eliza repeated in alarm.
“It doesn’t usually happen,” David told her. “A day or two. Three days, at most.”
Three days with the three of them and two dogs sharing his house? Eliza hoped the man knew what he was doing.
* * *
“Do you need anything else?” David asked Eliza as she and Hildy prepared to go upstairs. It was late—nearly midnight—and Hildy had finally admitted she was tired. There was so much to talk about, it seemed, with Hildy and David reminiscing about kids they had known from the neighborhood, what they had grown up to be, who they’d married, where they lived now.
Eliza listened, glassy-eyed. She didn’t know any of those people and didn’t care. But it was interesting to hear David talk, mainly because he talked so much. Hildy had a way of drawing him out. Even though the names and events meant nothing to Eliza, she liked hearing David’s voice.
He never stuttered once, she noticed. Not even a hesitation. He seemed more relaxed around Hildy than he did around his own family on the few occasions Eliza had seen them together.
While Hildy headed up the stairs, Eliza took care of letting Daisy outside. The rain had stopped for the moment, but Daisy still didn’t seem anxious to leave the warm house.
“Go on,” Eliza said, “make it quick.” She gave the dog a nudge. Daisy reluctantly toddled out and squatted on the cold ground.
Eliza waited by the door leading out to the garden, acutely aware of the last time she had done that. If she closed her eyes, she could relive the feeling of his hands on her breasts, her butt, the curve of her hips. Him telling her, “We can do whatever we want.” Making love that first time, the revelation of it, the first man since Jamey, the second man ever in her life.
But she didn’t want to relive it. Wanted—needed—to spare her mind. So she kept her eyes open and impatiently called to Daisy to hurry.
“Do you need anything else?” David asked her.
Numbly, she shook her head.
“All right, then, good night,” he said.
“Good night. And David...thanks again.”
* * *
“That man is in love with you.”
“Hildy, stop it,” Eliza said. The door was closed, so she knew David couldn’t hear them from downstairs, but still, Eliza didn’t want to hear it herself.
“I can see it,” Hildy said. “You could see it too, if you’d look. The way every time you say something he can’t take his eyes off you? The way he watches everything you do, even if you’re just moving your little pinky? I know what it looks like when a man’s in love, and that man’s in love.”
“Hildy.” Eliza steadied herself, cleared her throat. “I’m not saying there wasn’t an attraction...and maybe there still is.”
“Oh, there’s an attraction—”
“But that’s all it is,” Eliza said. “He doesn’t care if it’s me or Livia or the next woman who crosses his path.”
Hildy shook her head. “So blind you don’t even know it.”
“Hildy.” Eliza lowered her voice to a whisper. “I made a mistake with him. And it was very hard to get over, so I don’t want to make it again. Can’t you understand that?”
“But what if it wasn’t a mistake?”
“That’s like saying, ‘What if Jamey hadn’t died?’ He did. This is reality. It’s not always fun, but it’s the truth.”
“You think you know everything, but you don’t,” Hildy said. “I know that man.”
“You knew him,” Eliza corrected. “When he was a boy. I listened to the two of you tonight, remember? But he grew up and now he is who he is. I can’t change that—all I can do is protect myself.”
Hildy shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” Eliza said. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m angry with you—I’m not. But I can’t keep talking about this. It’s too hard on me. So please, let’s just go to bed.”
“Can I only say one more thing?”
“No. Please.”
“You think a man who doesn’t love you drives out in an ice storm and brings back an old lady and her dog and puts them up in his bed while he sleeps on the couch? You’d better think about why a man would do that. He didn’t do it for me, Lizzy, he did it for you.”
* * *
Eliza lay awake for a long time. She watched the bedside clock pass through the twelves, into the ones.
Why would a man do what he’d done? Guilt, maybe. Or yes, some innate decency—she’d grant him that, for Hildy’s sake. Or maybe, if she really wanted to be cynical, he saw his chance to resurrect their affair. Go over there with the excuse of saving them, and later find a grateful Eliza in his bed.
Instead, he had a grateful Eliza, Hildy, and Daisy spread out across his mattress. If he had had a plan, this couldn’t be it.
Eliza rolled onto her other side and tried again to sleep. Hildy and the dog were both snoring in different registers, at different speeds. If Eliza could just rest, she thought, shut off her mind for a while, treat the snores as white noise and let them soothe her off to sleep, maybe when she awoke in the morning the power would already be restored. She could thank David for his hospitality, gather up her small family, and quickly be on her way.
Eliza heard the deep crack of a rifle shot, then a splintering, thundering crash. Another tree branch somewhere close by had broken and fallen to the ground. The ice wouldn’t melt during the night, she realized, it would only solidify and grow heavier everywhere it lay.
It was no use trying to sleep. Maybe if she got up and used the bathroom, drank a cup of water, she could come back, reset, and try again. It was worth a try. Eliza pulled back the covers and quietly slipped out of bed. She had walked that path in the dark before, from David’s bed to the master bath. She closed herself inside before turning on the light.
She hadn’t been in there for four months. And even though she hated herself for being curious, she couldn’t help but look around. She searched for any sign of Livia: a woman’s shampoo, soap, lotion, cosmetics. She even pulled open the mirror over the sink to see if Livia had left anything in there. She shut it again quickly, disgusted with herself.
But also, she had to admit, relieved. She hadn’t found anything. Maybe Livia wasn’t as permanent of a guest as she’d implied.
What difference does it make? Eliza scolded herself. He can do whatever he wants.
“That man is in love with you.”
She wished Hildy had never opened her mouth.
Finished with her snooping, Eliza took care of what she’d come in there for. She hesitated before flushing, knowing it might wake the other people. But she did it anyway, then washed up and turned out the light.
She stood outside the bathroom, letting her eyes adjust again to the dark. She knew exactly where she was. Knew she was halfway between David’s bed and his bedroom door. Just four or five steps in either direction, and she’d either be back under the blankets, or out into the hall.
Eliza stood and listened to her own breath. It sounded shallow and quick compared to Hildy and Daisy’s deep, slow snores. Eliza placed a hand on her heart, feeling how her pulse had sped up, too. Afraid to consider what she was considering, she drew in a deeper breath and slowly released it to calm herself.
The power might be restored by morning. Then she could return to her normal life.
But this, right now, what was this? A few hours suspended in ice. Hours she could spend lying awake in David’s bed, or awake somewhere else.
Just a few steps, Eliza thought, that’s all it would take. A few steps and a decision not to care.
“Eliza, what if I don’t care? What if you can say anything, or do anything, and I won’t care?”
He was right, she thought. Maybe that really was the
best way. Just do whatever she wanted and not care what happened next.
Eliza walked softly toward the bedroom door, pulled it open, and stepped into the hall. She was just about to continue forward, when she realized she needed to turn back.
She twisted in place and grabbed the knob. And silently shut the door behind her.
38
Eliza descended the stairs, pausing on each step, careful not to make any noise. She even regulated her breathing, timing it so that she inhaled on one step, exhaled quietly on the next.
When she finally reached the bottom, she stopped. She listened for David. She could hear him breathing slowly and steadily, without any break in the rhythm. She peered around the wall toward the living room, and saw him stretched out beneath a blanket on the brown fabric couch. Bear slept curled up on one of the chairs.
Eliza stood there for at least a minute, trying not to breathe, wondering what to do next.
When he rose from the couch, she wasn’t surprised. Nervous, anxious, uncertain, but not surprised. He carried the blanket across his shoulders and quietly crossed the room. Then he opened the blanket and folded her inside.
Her mouth was on his instantly. Hungry for him, missing him, wanting what she couldn’t have anymore, what she could take right then, wanting not to think.
She could feel him behind his flannel sleep pants, and she pulled them down off his waist. As they slid to the ground she lifted her own shirt over her head. She needed his skin against hers again, the feeling of their bodies fitting together the way they did. She ran her hands up his back, feeling the muscles there, the structure, the strength of him. Then she reached around in front and took him into her hand and continued kissing him, touching him, pressing her breasts against his chest, wanting him inside her before she lost her nerve.
He broke away only long enough to lead her to another room. She recognized the shapes in the darkness as they crossed the threshold. He closed the door behind them and threw down a mat that stood leaning on the wall. Then the two of them fell in a tangle and David covered them again with the blanket.
Eliza had teased him in this room. Straddled him on a weight bench and made him wait until she was ready.
Now it was David’s turn.
She reached for him and he pinned her hand. She reached and he pinned the other. She wanted to feel his flesh, feel the weight of him, feel him inside her, but he braced his body above her, not touching, and instead used his tongue.
No! Eliza thought. He knew they couldn’t make any noise. It was maddening, too much to bear. She twisted and bucked and tried to bite him. She just wanted him inside her, hard and fast and finished, but he wouldn’t let her, and she couldn’t stop him.
She arched her back, tried using her knees, but he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. He tasted her, drove her, stripped her of any defenses, until tears took the place of sound and her face was wet with desire. She tightened her legs around him and tried pulling him into place. Then as suddenly as he had pinned her, he suddenly let her go. David got up from the mat and walked away.
Eliza rose to her elbows, ready to kick him, fight him, punish him for what he had done. But before she could launch her attack, he returned and ripped open the condom in his hand.
He rolled it over his tip, and gave her that much. Rolled it further, gave a bit more. Rolled it all the way, but still gave her so little, she jerked her hips to force him to move.
David hovered above her, barely in, barely out, driving her to the brink. Eliza dug her fingers into his shoulders and clenched her teeth to try to keep from crying out. Tears flowed freely, hot down her face, her head aching with the sounds trapped inside. Then with one shuddering breath, he plunged deep inside her, and Eliza took what she’d wanted from the start. From the moment she’d seen him at her door that night, wet and cold, so close she could taste him, she had wanted him here, flesh to flesh, repayment for all the months they’d been apart.
They rode each other the way they had learned as they’d discovered each other’s bodies in the past. Eliza knew he wouldn’t fail her. He understood what she needed, how she needed it, how to carry her to an eruption stronger than she ever used to allow herself before. They pressed their mouths together, hungry, urgent, and when it finally came she clenched him to her and buried her scream against his skin.
How could a man know her so well? How could he know her and not want her near? The pain returned to mix with the pleasure, and Eliza fought to hold just the one.
David panted and stayed where he was. He kissed the tears that covered her face. He kissed her breasts, her mouth again, then finally rolled to the side.
He pulled her into him by the waist, curling against her from behind, then wrapped them both in the blanket.
This was the sensation she remembered. His arms warm around her, the smell of his skin, his hair, his sweat. This was the memory she’d forgotten. She thought it was only her heart that ached at the loss. But it was her body, too. Not for the sex—she could learn to forget that, no matter how deeply she yearned for what he could do—but it was this, the time now, that her body craved the most. The hours when she could pretend she meant something more to him. When he held her like this. When they had completely given each other everything, and now lay open and undefended.
It was worth it, she thought. Feeling this again was worth it.
Even if the truth reappeared in the morning.
39
“The power’s still out,” David announced. He came in through the back door, dressed in rain gear and boots. Icy rain continued to fall, not so hard now, but relentless. Bear shook himself off and went to get a drink.
David stripped off his outer layer and hung the coat and rain pants on hooks. He unlaced his boots and left them by the door. Then he padded into the kitchen where Eliza and Hildy sat drinking their coffee. He rested a hand on Eliza’s shoulder. Hildy met her eye.
Eliza looked back at her blankly. She wasn’t ready to discuss what happened. She wasn’t sure she would ever be.
“I’ll make us breakfast,” David said, “then Eliza, do you want to go to the house? We can pack up a few more things. I think you’ll both be here another day.”
Eliza nodded. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t trust her voice.
“You’ll have to borrow some of my clothes to go over there,” he told her. “We’re walking.”
* * *
“How can it be raining when it’s so cold?” Eliza asked. She carefully picked her way across the field. “Why isn’t it snowing?”
“Warmer air than the ground,” David said. “It happens sometimes.”
He paused and pointed to the power lines in the distance. Eliza had seen them every time she took a walk up there, and knew how they were supposed to look. Now they sagged with the weight of ice, some of the wires touching all the way to the ground. “That’s the line for the neighborhood,” David said. “They should be able to fix it today.”
The individual power to some of the houses looked like a trickier problem. As they came down the hill onto the street below, Eliza could see the devastation. Trees everywhere had lost branches, substantial ones in many cases, and some of them had snarled in the power lines and ripped them as they fell.
Eliza understood now why it was easier to travel on foot: Branches blocked the streets, too heavy to clear by hand. Until the town sent its heavy equipment, people would be stranded on either side of the barriers. At least the people who were closer to the main road might be able to get out and go to a store. People in houses like Hildy’s, deeper into the neighborhood, would have to wait until the trees were removed.
Up and down the street, she could hear what sounded like dozens of lawn mowers.
“Generators,” David explained when she asked him. “The portable kind. They run on gas, so you have to leave them outside or you’ll die from carbon monoxide poisoning. It’s just like leaving a car running in your garage.”
“Or cooking on a stove inside your ten
t,” Eliza added.
David smiled. “I wouldn’t know.”
At the Nolans’ house, across the street, Eliza could see two long extension cords stretching from the generator into the house. “You decide which appliances you need powered most,” David explained. “Usually the refrigerator, heater, lamps, the sump pump in the basement if it’s raining.”
“Sump pumps, generators, ice storms—I don’t know about any of those,” Eliza said. “Sometimes when I hear people talk here, I feel like I grew up in a different country.”
“What do you have in Nevada?”
“You know, rattlesnakes, flash floods, dust storms, monsoons, scorpions, javelina, Gila monsters—”
“Monsters,” David repeated.
“Oh, yes, we’re very brave.”
Eliza unlocked the front door and let them both inside. The house was freezing—as cold as the unheated garage had been the night before. Eliza unzipped the coat David had lent her, and pulled off the thick pants that were too long. She stood in the entryway wearing just long john tops and bottoms, a sweatshirt, and thick socks while she waited for David to finish. Once he was down to his layer of sweat pants and a wool sweater, the two of them went upstairs.
“Oh, that poor maple,” Eliza said, looking out the window to the back yard. “Hildy’s going to hate that.”
“But it left the power,” David said, pointing to the wire running from the back of the property to the house. “So you should be all right. Yours will come on once they restore the neighborhood.”
Eliza glanced around the kitchen. “I’d offer you coffee or tea if the stove worked, but...” Her voice trailed off as he came toward her.
“Which one is your bedroom?”
“You want to see?” She felt nervous again and wished that that would stop. They were just lovers, and this was a brief two- or three-day interlude when they could do what they wanted, then go. He could return to Livia, if that’s what he wanted, and Eliza would return to her life.
