Absence of Grace

by Ann Warner

  Dinner seemed interminable, but Clen finally finished and stepped outside. Gerrum was sitting on the step next to Kody, scratching the old dog’s ears.

  She pulled in a breath to steady herself and sat next to him. “Hello there.”

  He turned his head and smiled. “Hello there, yourself.” He slid an arm around her, pulling her close.

  So where had the feeling that danced through her all day gone? The anticipation of just this: being back in Gerrum’s arms. But in this moment, anticipation was replaced with uncertainty.

  She dropped her head on his shoulder. “I’m kind of nervous about what comes next.” It was odd, though. She didn’t have any difficulty admitting it to Gerrum.

  He removed his arm and took one of her hands between his. “Moving a bit too fast for you, is it?”

  “Yes.” She breathed out in relief that he understood even if she couldn’t explain. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I haven’t had much experience with this sort of thing.”

  “I know a way to fix that.”

  “Just jump in, right? None of that toe-in-the-water stuff.”

  He shook his head, still bent over her hand. “A toe in the water may be exactly what’s needed.” He looked up and held her gaze with his, his thumb gently smoothing over the inside of her wrist, making her breath catch. “There’s no need for us to rush, Clen.”

  Her confidence seeped back. Determined, she pulled in another breath, stood, and held out a hand to him. “Come,” she commanded, not caring if everyone in Wrangell saw them.

  When they reached his house and stepped inside, she turned to face him. “I want to know how we are together. Slow or fast.”

  His lips curved and his eyes gleamed.

  “So how about it, Gerrum Kirsey?” Her voice shook as did her knees, but she held herself still, waiting for his answer.

  “Come here.”

  He walked her into the living room, sat on the sofa, and pulled her onto his lap. Then he cupped her face with his hands and began kissing her in lingering exploration. Her nerves steadied and she settled comfortably against him, enjoying the touch of his lips. There was passion in Gerrum’s kisses that was all the more intriguing because it was held in careful check.

  As they continued to kiss, Clen’s left brain insistently pushed its way into her awareness, eroding the certainty she’d begun to feel. She pulled back and took a deep breath.

  “What is it, Clen?”

  “We need to talk.” Words that were no easier to say than they’d ever been to hear. She slid off his lap, and he let her go but he kept his arm around her. “I think something important is happening here. At least it is for me. But I need you to know, sex isn’t a game for me.”

  Gerrum shifted until he was facing her, but that made talking more difficult. She swallowed and stared at her hands. She’d clenched them without realizing it. “And, there are things we need to take care of before...well before...”

  “We make love?”

  Startled she glanced at him.

  “That is what you’re talking about,” he said. “Isn’t it? Not just sex.”

  She looked back at her hands which were still clenched. She stretched her fingers out, noticing the bare spot where her wedding ring used to be. “I was brought up to believe I shouldn’t have sex outside marriage. If I did, civilization might disintegrate. The seas run dry.” She shifted. “I didn’t believe it, of course, but something stuck. Because I never...I mean...you’ll think I’m a terrible prude, but I can’t...”

  “Just hop into bed with anybody who comes along?”

  “More or less.”

  “And you’re wondering if I do?”

  “I don’t think most men would turn down an opportunity for sex if the woman was halfway attractive.”

  “You have a pretty low opinion of us.”

  “Not without reason.”

  It took a moment for her comment to register. “Your husband?”

  She nodded.

  “He was unfaithful?”

  She nodded again.

  “Then he was a blithering idiot.”

  She blinked at his vehemence.

  “I won’t tell you I’ve never slept with a woman, but I can tell you, I’ve never slept with one opportunistically. Women aren’t the only ones who believe in true love, Clen.”

  “Still, look around at all the unhappy people who once thought they were in love.”

  “And yet we keep taking a chance on loving,” Gerrum said. “Perhaps we’re designed to be optimists in even the most hopeless situations.”

  “You think love is hopeless?”

  “No. I think a life without love would be hopeless.” He touched her cheek. “You and I, Clen, we’re looking at the possibility of something amazing here. And sex is only part of it.”

  “I wish I could just...”

  “Shh, I know, Clen. It’s okay. Some of the best things take their sweet time.”

  “You’re not just trying to make me feel better.”

  “Of course I am, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  “We also need to talk about...birth control.”

  He smoothed the hair off her face. “Of course we do.”

  “If I go on the pill, it will mean waiting.”

  “It won’t be easy.”

  “But you’re okay with it?”

  “I’m okay with it.”

  And when the waiting was finally over, Gerrum undressed Clen, giving it the same comprehensive attention he’d always given to kissing her. The contrast to Paul’s approach to sex couldn’t have been more stark. Paul, a main event kind of guy, never bothered much with caresses.

  Clen pushed those thoughts aside and gave herself up to Gerrum, whom she wanted to touch in return. Following his example, she moved slowly and deliberately, removing his shirt and unsnapping his jeans. Clothed, he looked solid, weighty. Naked, that solidity was revealed as muscle and sinew.

  Running her palms over his chest, she paused to check the beat of his heart and smiled to herself at its rapid pace that matched her own. She touched his cheek and ran a finger down his breastbone and across his abdomen, circling his belly button—an innie. Meeting his quiet gaze, her own passion surged and her doubts slipped away.

  He lowered her to the bed and when he moved inside her, his rhythm deepened and quickened, filling her with a pulsation as steady as a heartbeat, as deep, dark, and lovely as a star-filled sky, until together they tipped over the top in a slow, delicious slide.

  Afterward, she lay beside him, breathing deeply, smiling.

  So that was what making love felt like.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Clen tucked herself into Gerrum’s heart and life as if there were an empty spot just waiting for her. He knew women thought they were the romantic ones, and it was probably true not many men cared about flowers, candlelight, and the other trappings that spelled romance for most women.

  For him, the romance was in kissing Clen and rubbing his hand in her hair, feeling it spring soft and silky against the roughness of his palm. It was walking by the harbor on a clear night and holding her hand while they looked up to watch the stars come out one by one. It was looking into Clen’s eyes, like quiet waters, reflecting that light.

  On one of her evenings off, as they cooked a meal together, Clen told him the story of how she went off to college wearing a frilly dress her mother picked out.

  “I’ve never known anyone less suited to frills than you, my love.”

  “I ditched it at the dinner stop, along with my name.”

  “What’s the name you ditched?”

  “Michelle Marie.”

  “Hmm. Euphonious.”

  She snorted. “It shows a complete lack of attention. Do I look like a Michelle Marie to you?”

  “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.”

  “Shakespeare?”

  “Proverbs.”

  “I didn’t know you were into quoting the Bible, Gerrum.�
�

  “Not a Bible fan?” he asked, although it was clear she wasn’t from the distaste in her tone.

  “Sorry. Unconscious reaction. What I’m not a fan of is religion.”

  He started the burner under a skillet before he spoke again. He wanted to hear the story, but he knew not to push too hard. “That’s an interesting position.” Especially for someone who’d spent time in an abbey.

  “About that quote,” she said. “One of many?”

  “Not really. When I was six, a teacher wrote it out for me after she heard some kids teasing me about my name. It seemed to fit your situation.” At times like this he felt like he was walking on eggshells in conversations with Clen—maneuvering around an obstacle he couldn’t see but was clearly there.

  “It does. Did you beat up the kids who teased you?”

  “Didn’t need to. Most bullies are cowards, you know. Once I developed some muscles and stood up to them, they backed off.”

  “Like in your book. So that did happen to you.”

  “Not exactly. But it’s where the idea came from.”

  “Do we ever escape our pasts?”

  “Probably not. But for me it’s a good thing. Without a checkered past, I’d be hard-pressed to have anything to write about.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Gerrum said, as he and Clen soaked in the Stikine hot tub.

  She stretched out a foot and ran it delicately up and down his leg. “Deep thoughts or shallow ones?” Contentment flowed through her, as warm and encompassing as the hot spring water.

  “I want you to move in with me.”

  Startled, she withdrew her foot. Although for today she’d put the future out of her mind, that detail had begun to niggle like a pebble caught in a shoe—the question of what she would do when the lodge closed for the season. Gerrum’s intent expression meant he’d wait as long as it took for her to answer. But it wasn’t a simple proposition he was making, even if it could be answered with a single word.

  “Maude will have a field day,” she said, testing his resolve.

  “She will.” He looked serious, but amusement glinted in those dark eyes.

  “This is your place, Gerrum. I don’t want to make it uncomfortable for you.”

  “Nobody with the slightest spark of intelligence pays any attention to Maude. And what would make me uncomfortable, in the extreme, would be to spend the winter sleeping alone.”

  The teasing words were a welcome break from the weight of the decision, and she grabbed it. “Such a romantic.”

  “Come here, woman, and let me show you just how romantic I can be.”

  “Uh-oh. You never know when a moose might drop by.”

  He hooked an arm around her and pulled her onto his lap with a splash. “A moose, huh?” He held her without kissing her, and she knew that although he was willing to be playful, he was still waiting for the answer to his question.

  “Living with someone is...it can be difficult. It requires compromise. Unselfishness. I don’t know if I can do it.” Not the real reason for her unease, but at least it sounded plausible.

  Gerrum held her for a time before speaking. “Compromise and acting unselfishly aren’t difficult when you care for someone and want to make it work.” He shifted slightly, and she settled more firmly against him. “All either of us can promise is to try, and that we’ll talk about anything that bothers us.”

  “What if we fail?” She already cared enough for Gerrum that failing would be dreadful.

  “What if we succeed?”

  They met each other’s eyes, in silence. Into that quiet whispered a memory of the desperate pain she’d felt when Gerrum was missing. If they cut short what they’d begun to share without discovering where it might lead, it would hurt. Horribly.

  For a moment longer she let herself imagine her life without this man, and her heart clenched with the certainty of agony. “I’m about parboiled.” She nibbled on his ear then rested her forehead against his. “Maybe we can go home and you can show me that romantic side?”

  “You’re not using the term home loosely are you? Because I’m real delicate, you know. I can be hurt easy by careless talk.”

  She shifted in order to look him in the eye, making her expression a solemn one. “I never use the word home loosely.”

  He stood, setting her on her feet. “Good. I’m glad we got that settled. I’m ready to go home, too.”

  But first he pulled her back into his arms. The warmth from Gerrum and the hot spring water mixed with the cool of a breeze that tickled her neck and flowed over her back. “Hey, don’t forget that moose,” she said, breaking off the kiss.

  He laughed. “Better a moose than Maude.” He let her go, and she climbed out of the tub, sprinkling bright diamonds of water in his hair.

  They grinned at each other the whole way back to Wrangell.

  The night Clen finally told Gerrum about what happened with Paul, he listened silently as the story poured out, then he folded her against his chest.

  “I ended up at an abbey, and Sister Mary John tried to straighten me out.”

  He leaned away and looked her directly in the eye. “I think you’re wonderful exactly the way you are.”

  It was so easy loving Gerrum. Like free-falling through space without any fear of the landing. Sometimes she felt so light, it was hard to remember she was made of flesh and bones, until they made love. Then she was grateful for that flesh and those bones. For their delightful, delirious collision.

  Clen was laying out the ingredients to make lasagna for the dozen expected for dinner when Marian came in from her sewing circle. “Has Gerrum said anything to you lately about Hailey?” Marian asked, shedding her jacket and the tote bag containing her latest project.

  “Hmm. Like what?”

  “Doreen said Hailey just hasn’t been herself lately. Twice in the past week, she didn’t open the gallery, which is a first. Then someone else said they’d seen her a couple of times having serious discussions with Gerrum. I thought he might have said something.”

  “No. Afraid not.”

  “Yeah, I should have figured. Gerrum’s a man of few words, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Although compared to Maude, he’s a clam.”

  “Everyone compared to Maude is a clam.”

  “If you’re so worried about Hailey, why not just ask her if she’s okay?”

  “Doreen did. Hailey brushed her off. Said she had a bug. Hadn’t been feeling well.”

  “That could be it, you know.”

  “No. Somehow I don’t think so.”

  As Marian intended, Clen asked Gerrum about Hailey while they were taking their evening walk.

  “As far as I know, she’s in perfect health.”

  It meant Clen was going to have to do her own investigation, but when she arrived at ZimoviArt the next morning, she found it closed and Doreen from the Visitors’ Center next door fussing about it. “Gerrum was here awhile ago asking about Hailey. Said if she comes in to let her know he’d be at the marina.”

  Clen decided to walk over to the marina to surprise Gerrum herself. She found Ever Joyful was right where it was supposed to be, but both jet boat and Gerrum were missing.

  She didn’t see him until she arrived at his house after dinner. He was sitting at the computer when she came in, and he stopped writing to greet her with a big smile and a kiss.

  “How was your day?” she asked.

  “Busy. We did some work on the Joyful.”

  “Didn’t you take the jet boat out?”

  “Oh...yeah. I had a couple show up who wanted to do a quick run over to the garnet reef.”

  She wouldn’t have noticed his hesitation if she hadn’t been looking for it. “I stopped by ZimoviArt today,” she said, watching him closely. “It was closed. Doreen said you’d stopped by. Did you and Hailey ever get together?”

  “We must have missed each other. I’ll have to check in with her tomorrow.”

  No question, the ma
n was squirming. But why? If he was willing to leave a message for Hailey with Doreen, it must be innocent.

  “Say, I’m hungry,” Gerrum said. “How about I make popcorn.”