They lay in each other’s arms afterwards, completely naked and completely happy. This was living. Jane ran her fingers up and down Caleb’s chest, tickling his nipples with her nails.
“Have you had many lovers?” she asked.
It seemed like a long time passed before he answered.
“Not really. I mean, I’ve had a few steady girlfriends over the years. But I wouldn’t say they were many.”
“Like the one you wrote that song about?”
“Yes, she was one.”
“Tell me about her.”
“I met her when I first came to Seattle. I was young and renting a little room on the hill. I think I was working for the moving company at the time. Playing music at night, of course. She came to one of my gigs and wanted to meet me after.”
“Did you love her?”
“I thought I did.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I’m not sure I even knew what love was back then, to be honest. I think we were infatuated with each other, maybe.”
“What happened?”
“We fought all the time. About stupid shit, too. We just weren’t compatible. Plus, she was edgy. You know?”
“I don’t know. What do you mean by edgy?”
“Like she was in love with depression or something.Or at least in love with the idea of it. She used to carry around three or four suicide notes everywhere she went, and she was always working on them. Whenever we’d fight, she’d pull one out and start writing away. I can’t tell you how many bathroom doors I broke down over the years to make sure she was okay.”
“Did she ever end up doing it?”
“Killing herself?”
“Yeah.”
“No. She ran off and married some software engineer at Microsoft. Cleaned herself up into a trophy wife, I guess. Last time I saw her, they passed me in the street, and she was pushing a kid in an REI stroller. She saw me, but we didn’t say anything to each other. She looked happy. What about you?”
“I thought about suicide once. After Melody died.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you didn’t do it. But I meant what about other lovers.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve dated, of course, although it’s been a long time. When Melody was young she was my priority. I always told myself I’d need to be really sure about a man before I’d introduce him to her. But I was never sure, so she never met any of them. Lots of first dates. Then, when she got older and started having her trouble, I was just too wrapped up with her problems to even think about dating. Not that guys didn’t hit on me, and sometimes it was flattering. Of course, my friends were always trying to set me up, annoying as that is.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
Jane sighed.
“I thought I was in love with Melody’s father. But, like you, I don’t think I even knew what love was back then.”
“But you do now?”
“I think so.”
“And what is it?” he asked.
Jane looked up into his green eyes. His long lashes caught the light falling in through the window.
“You tell me,” she said.
He paused for a moment, as if considering his answer.
“Okay. I don’t know if I have the right words, but love is this feeling I get when I look at you. A feeling that as long as you’re near me, or in the world even, then everything will be okay. That everything has meaning. It’s as if the world was all shades of sepia—like an old movie reel—and that everywhere I looked I saw suffering and pain. Then I heard your voice, I saw your face, and somehow the color came into everything.”
Jane smiled.
“I like that.”
“What does it feel like for you?” he asked.
She sighed.
“Hmm ... let’s see. Do I have to answer that?”
“I told you.”
“All right, fair is fair, I guess. I know I love you because it feels like I’m finally whole now. Like I’ve gone my entire life missing something, and now I’ve found it.”
“Like a puzzle piece or something?”
“Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” he said, “it kind of does.”
“Maybe I can put it like this: there was always this ache in my guts, an aloneness, but whenever I’m with you it seems to disappear. I remember reading somewhere that you have to learn to love yourself before you can love someone else. But I don’t think it’s true. I think you have to learn to forget yourself before you can love someone else. At least I seem to forget about myself when I’m with you. I feel light. I feel happy. You know, I never told a man that I loved him before. At least not since Melody was born. But I love you, Caleb. I really do.”
He kissed her forehead.
“When I hear you say those words, all I see is blue. The most beautiful blue you could imagine.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I just hope you never stop loving me, Jane.”
“I won’t,” she said, laying her head back on his chest.
A short time later she heard her cell phone ringing in the kitchen, where it was charging. She let it go to voicemail, but it immediately rang again.
“I had better go get that.”
“Okay,” he said, sliding out from beneath her. “I’m gonna jump in your shower.”
He was already in the shower when she returned from her short call. She stripped off her clothes and stepped in with him and wrapped her arms around him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking down at her face.
“My brother’s in the Seattle jail for a DUI.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe this time it’ll do him some good.”
“Are you okay?”
“I learned to let go of his consequences years ago. This is par for the course with him. But that’s not the worst part.”
“What is then?”
“My mother’s coming down to go to his hearing, and she wants to stay here for a few days.”
Caleb nodded.
“I understand. I’ll get lost for a while if you need me to.”
Jane hugged her arms around him tighter.
“No way,” she said. “You’re not going anywhere. I need you here with me. But if you wouldn’t mind maybe sleeping on the couch, it might make things easier with her.”
Caleb placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his, looking deep into her eyes.
“I just want to support you any way I can, baby. And I’ll sleep anywhere you ask me to.”
Jane rose to her tiptoes and kissed him.
“Thank you.”
“When’s she coming?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Well, we better make use of today then while we can.”
He pressed her against the shower wall and kissed her. She felt his naked body melded together with hers, and she felt the warm stream of water running between them. When he pulled his mouth from hers, the look on his face was wild with need.
She reached down and he was hard.
It felt risky and exciting and Jane could hardly believe that she was standing naked in her shower with the proof of Caleb’s attraction for her pulsing in her hand.
She guided him to her. He crouched down slightly and picked her up and pushed himself inside her. She’d never felt him harder. She wrapped her arms around his wet shoulders and held on while he thrust himself deep, again and again, like a starved and hungry lover, slapping her bare ass against the tile shower wall, the steam rising between them, her moans echoing in the acoustics of the confined space, and she heard him calling out to her between her moans—
“Oh-God-Jane.I’m-Going-to-Cum-Jane.I-Love-You!”
She let go of his shoulders and reached down and dug her nails hard into his ass, and she felt him burst inside her with the most amazing mixture of pleasure and pain written on his face.
Chapter 14
SHE SHOWED UP EARLY, pounding on the door and waking
them. Jane jumped out of bed and pulled on her sweats. Caleb yawned and stretched, smiling at her from the bed.
“Come on,” she said, “you’ve got to get out of here.”
“Where should I go?”
“Well, Mother will expect to have Melody’s old room, so maybe just pretend you were sleeping on the sofa.”
He laughed, got out of bed, and dragged a blanket with him into the living room. Jane followed him, collecting the trail of discarded clothes they’d left lying everywhere these last few days. Caleb flopped down on the sofa and either pretended to go back to sleep or actually did. Jane couldn’t tell as she rushed past him to stuff their dirty clothes in the hamper.
Her mother pounded on the door again, and when Jane finally opened it, she stood on the step with an impatient scowl on her face and two large suitcases at her feet.
“You’ll be lucky if I don’t come down with pneumonia the way you’ve left me standing out here in the cold.”
She stepped past Jane into the house, then looked over her shoulder and nodded to her luggage.
“Aren’t you going to get that?”
Jane grabbed the bags and followed her inside.
She brought the bags to Melody’s old room and set them against the dresser. When she turned back, her mother was standing in the doorway, surveying the room.
“I see you’ve erased any trace of her already. I would have left it as it was myself, but then I guess we all have our own way about things. Whose guitar is that in the corner? I hope you’re not wasting your time trying to learn. You never did have an ear for music, you know. Now, your brother, he had the gift. Do you remember when he played the saxophone?”
“I remember when he pawned the saxophone that you bought him so he could buy drugs, but I don’t remember him playing much. The guitar belongs to my houseguest. He’s here doing some work for me in the backyard.”
Her mother looked down her nose at Jane.
“Humph,” she said, a sour expression on her face. “If I’d known you had a houseguest, I would have stayed at the hotel.”
“Gee, Mother. If I’d known that I would have been sure to mention it. So I guess we both lost out.”
“Well, I’m here now. I’d like some coffee, if it isn’t too much trouble. The service on the train was just awful, and then I had to wait for the ferry, of course. I guess it would be too much to ask for you to drive down and pick me up.”
Jane ignored her mother’s last statement and stepped past her out the door.
“I’ll put some coffee on.”
They sat across the table from one another with nothing at all to say. Her mother was even grumpier than usual, but Jane tried to allow for the fact that she’d been traveling since early this morning and that her favorite child was once again in jail. The house was quiet, and Jane heard the guest shower turn on. She knew that Caleb was up.
Her mother must have heard it also, because she asked:
“Will I be sharing a bathroom with your houseguest?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Well, I hope he’s not one of these filthy illegals I see working around our old neighborhood. The whole block really has gone to hell, you know.”
“I believe it,” Jane said, adding under her breath: “I know the devil already lives there.”
“What’s that you say?”
“Nothing, Mother.”
A short time later, but not soon enough for Jane, Caleb walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. When he turned around, he smiled at Jane and said:
“Good morning, Miss McKinney.”
“Good morning, Mr. ...” Jane realized that she couldn’t remember Caleb’s last name, and she stumbled embarrassingly over her recovery when she saw her mother eyeing her. “Oh, hell, you don’t mind if I just call you Caleb, do you?”
“No, Caleb’s fine,” he said, smiling at her slyly.
“Caleb, I’d like you to meet my mother, Mrs. McKinney.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
Caleb reached out his hand to her mother, and she leaned forward in her seat to inspect it before she accepted his offer. When Caleb had released her hand, she picked up her napkin and wiped it clean. Then she tossed the napkin on the table and sighed, looking right past Caleb to address Jane.
“Well, I think I’ll retire for a little rest, if you don’t mind. And if you plan on having your helper work in the yard this morning, please have him keep the noise down.”
With that, she stood and walked from the kitchen.
When Jane heard the bedroom door close, she turned to Caleb with an apology in her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“It’s funny,” Caleb said, keeping his voice low, “but the first thing I thought when I saw her was how much she looked like you. She really is beautiful. But the second she spoke, you two looked nothing alike. She’s all red and you’re all blue.”
“Well, let’s just try to put up with her until she goes home. Which hopefully happens soon.”
Caleb leaned in conspiratorially, keeping his eyes on the kitchen entrance as he stole a quick kiss.
“By the way,” he whispered, before pulling away, “my last name is Cummings. And as my insurance agent, I would expect you to know that.”
“Such a lovely name you have, Mr. Caleb Cummings.” She brushed her lips against his, extending their kiss. “I might just have to try it on myself and see how it sounds.”
“I’d like that,” he whispered back.
Then he pulled away and smiled, speaking in a loud voice for her mother’s benefit:
“I’m off to work in your yard now, Miss McKinney. I’ll try my best to keep the noise down.”
HER MOTHER APPEARED briefly again at dinner, once again refusing to acknowledge Caleb directly. She only mentioned him once when she asked Jane how old her “little helper” was, as if he hadn’t been sitting at the table right next to her.
After an uncomfortable meal where everyone picked at their food, she finally brought up Jane’s brother and their plan for the following morning.
“I’d like to get an early start,” she said, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “We should really try to see him before the arraignment at ten.”
“I’m happy to drive you into the city,” Jane said, “and I’ll wait to take you back, but I won’t be going inside to see him.”
Her mother’s face pinched up in sour indignation.
“That’s just ridiculous. He needs your support.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Jane said. “He needs help. And he can’t get it from me. This is what, Mother, his fourth DUI? He’s lucky he hasn’t killed someone by now. And how many of your cars has he wrecked without a license? And still you let him live with you. I’m not responsible for his choices, and I won’t suffer the consequences for them. And you shouldn’t either.”
Her mother cast a glance at Caleb.
“This is no way to speak about your own brother in front of strangers.”
“Maybe I’m sick of secrets, Mother.”
“It has nothing to do with secrets,” she said. “McKinney’s don’t air their dirty laundry in public.”
Jane laughed.
“Dirty laundry? Like all those early years when Dad got drunk and beat us all the time, and you just drank your wine and pretended everything was fine? Don’t let the neighbors hear. Is that what you mean, Mother?”
Her mother sat with her mouth agape, apparently shocked by Jane’s accusations. Then she said:
“I haven’t had a drink in nearly twenty years now, and you know that. Not one.”
Jane crossed her arms and looked away.
“Sometimes I think you’d be better off if you had one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a dry drunk, Mother.”
There was a long and uncomfortable silence.
Jane watched as Caleb moved the uneaten food around his plate with his fork. Then she heard her mother’s
chair slide on the linoleum as she stood from the table. Jane could feel her standing there and staring at her, waiting for her to apologize as she always had in the past. But Jane refused to apologize this time; she refused even to look at her.
After standing for nearly a minute, her mother stormed from the kitchen and slammed the bedroom door.
Jane rose from the table with her plate and dropped it in the sink with a clatter. Then she stood with her hands on the counter, staring out the kitchen window at the shadows of bats flitting across the blue evening sky. She felt Caleb’s arms wrap around her, and she felt his lips touch her neck.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Jane closed her eyes and sighed, taking comfort in his words. Somehow he knew just what to say, and maybe more importantly, what not to.
SHE WAS ASLEEP, and dreaming about him, when he crept into her room that night and woke her with a kiss. She pulled him onto the bed and rolled on top of him, reaching down to free him from his boxers. She had only been wearing a long night shirt, and she hiked it up and guided herself down to him, placing her hands on his bare chest and riding him in the dark.
It turned her on more than a little knowing that there was a risk of being discovered by her mother, and it was all she could do to keep herself from moaning as she rode herself to a climax. She sat atop him quivering with pleasure until he slowly pulled her down beside him, kissing her, and shifting his hips to keep himself inside of her.
Apparently, he wasn’t finished.
Another half turn, and he was on top, gently coaxing her back. She spread her legs wide and raised her hips to take him as deep as she could, and he worked himself there with hard and steady thrusts, until she felt him grip her shoulders and shake like a man possessed, filling her with his warmth.
CALEB WAS OUT WORKING in the yard by the time she rose the following morning, and she stopped for a moment at the window to watch him. The goat stood across the yard from her, chewing on hay and watching him too. He was using a shovel to spread topsoil from a wheelbarrow in preparation to lay down seed. She noticed the smooth movement of his lean arms and strong back, working together in perfect rhythm, and she thought there must be no place he looked more at home than he did when he was working—except maybe when he had a guitar in his hands. She could almost picture what the yard would look like when the new grass had taken hold, and she wondered again what would happen to him when he was finished. She knew music was in his blood, and she knew Austin was calling.
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