Proposition

by Wegner, Ola

  When he got there, breaking all possible speed limits allowed in town, Laura led him to a small staff room. Amy lay on the couch, breathed heavily, and coughing. On seeing him, she started talking the same bullshit of feeling well, but he wouldn’t listen. He helped her into her coat and carried her quickly to the car.

  The whole way to the doctor’s, he blamed himself in the first place that he hadn’t noticed earlier how serious her state had been. After the examination, it turned out she had a heavy cold, plus the beginning of bronchitis and a possible ear infection. The doctor had stressed that she needed to stay in bed for a week, at least, unless she wanted to get pneumonia.

  He’d put her into bed that very evening. She mumbled something that he should sleep on the couch because he’d catch her cold. He ignored her of course and stayed in bed with her. Still he hadn’t been able to sleep much, as she’d been coughing heavily the entire night, waking herself and him in the process.

  In the morning, her breathing seemed to get easier, and he hoped that the medicine the doctor had prescribed started working. She’d fallen asleep around eight am, and he’d left her to do some quick shopping for healthy stuff, plus something to ease her sore throat.

  Amy was still sleeping when he returned and woke up several hours later, in the early afternoon. She was surprised to find him at home and not at work. She scolded him and said she’d be fine at home, and that he should be at work. He’d lost his temper then. He informed her that he didn’t want to hear that ‘she was fine’ any more. She started murmuring some protest, but he’d simply ignored her. She fell asleep promptly after he’d forced some chicken soup into her that he’d ordered at the restaurant down the street.

  Later that day, Thomas phoned him, concerned that Amy wasn’t answering her phone, Jake had found out some very interesting things about Amy from his father-in-law. After Jake told Thomas about Amy’s condition, Thomas got worried. Amy had been especially prone to all kinds of lung infections since early childhood, due to asthma she developed as an infant. In the past, she’d gone through a series of bronchitis attacks as well as contracting pneumonia twice, once even being hospitalized. Jake had done his best to assure Thomas that she’d had all the best care. Still, the fact that she’d hidden her health problems from him, and that she’d tried to ignore the seriousness of her state and possible consequences had made him positively angry.

  From Wednesday to Thursday she’d got worse again, her fever high, matched with prolonged coughing. He’d decided to call the doctor again, as clearly she wasn’t getting any better. But on Thursday evening the antibiotic seemed to kick in at last, and last night she’d slept the whole night without interruption.

  Amy’s unexpected illness put his thoughts away from the matter that had bothered him since the morning on the beach. The man from her past. Though he would have wished otherwise, he knew that Amy had some boyfriends in the past, perhaps not that many, because he hadn’t remembered her dating at all when she’d been in high school. However, this Michael Cummings sounded serious to him.

  Her embarrassment and discomposure when Thomas and Claire had mentioned him, her behavior on the beach, the fact that she’d literally admitted to have loved the man once. Jake was sure that his wife was not the type of woman to forget quickly once she’d fallen in love. For his own peace of mind, he decided to hire a detective agency to collect more information about this guy. Perhaps it wasn’t a very elegant move, but he didn’t care. The guy had been gone from her life for the last several years, but still she’d seemed to have a soft spot for him, and he wanted to make sure that he was really and truly out of the picture. Not that he had the slightest intention of letting her go anywhere.

  It was nearly six when he managed to get home. The sound of TV brought him to the living room. She was curled on the couch, under the warm woolen blanket, as she watched what he decided had to be a historical British show, judging by the maternity-style dresses the actresses wore.

  Her face brightened when she saw him. “Hi.”

  He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Hi, yourself.”

  She lifted herself against the armrest, caught his hand, and pulled him to sit next to her.

  “I’ve got your magazine in the briefcase,” he said.

  He took in her pale features and placed his hand on her forehead. She looked definitely better, and she wasn’t feverish.

  “Thank you. And how was your day?” she asked softly.

  “Fine, I hired a new site manager. He seems responsible enough. I hope he’ll do a good job. He’s starting on Monday.”

  Her worried eyes lifted to him. “I feel guilty, because I’ve driven you away from your responsibilities for the last several days.”

  “Amy, what are you talking about?” he scolded her gently, as his hand stroked her cheek. “You’re the most important. It’s only a job.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her expression confused before she started again, her tone still with a guilty quality to it. “But you look tired, and I know you haven’t been able to sleep lately because of my night coughing.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday, I’ll sleep longer,” he promised. He gave her a searching look before he asked. “There’s something more, right?”

  He knew her well enough and he was sure there was something more on her mind, but she seemed hesitant to tell him..

  “There’s one thing I must ask you to do. You have to get something for me,” she said, as she bit her lip, and twisted her slim fingers. “But I think it might be terribly awkward for you.”

  Jake looked at her expectedly, having absolutely no clue what she needed so much.

  “Just after your phone call,” she continued, “I went to the bathroom, and I noticed my period started, a few days earlier than usual. It’s because of the antibiotics, I think because most of the time I’m very regular. The thing is that I need tampons and sanitary pads. I ran out of them.”

  Jake stared at her for a moment. “Sure,” he tried to sound his own confident self, but even to his own ears, he did poor job of it. “No problem,” he informed her in a much thicker voice. “But how would I know what to buy?”

  Her face brightened and she started speaking animatedly. “I usually purchase this stuff in the drugstore around the corner. That’s really not very difficult, I’ll write you everything I need, the name of the brand and the size.” She reached for the notepad lying on the coffee table, opened it, and started scribbling quickly.

  “Here.” She handed him the sheet of paper when she finished. “All you would have to do is to show it to the shop assistant. She’ll take care of the rest.”

  He took the note and sent her a brave smile.

  “I can imagine how awkward it must be for you,” she ventured. “I could go myself...”

  “Get that out of your head,” he announced firmly and stood up. “The doctor said you are to stay in bed for two weeks, and you will, you have my word on that.”

  “You’re sweet,” she whispered with a sweet smile, rising from the couch on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “Aren’t you hungry? Perhaps you would like to eat something first? I can make something quickly,” she offered, her feet already looking for the slippers somewhere under the coffee table. However, the sudden, prolonged, sharp coughing stopped her.

  Pushing her back on the couch, he covered her with the blanket. “You are to stay here, or in bed. You are allowed to go only to the bathroom.”

  “Bully,” she murmured, but obediently laid down, the attack of coughing having exhausted her.

  Jake walked to the bedroom to change from his suit into more comfortable clothes. Just before leaving, he checked on Amy. She’d fallen asleep again. He turned down the sound on the TV, and placed the magazine she’d asked for on the coffee table. On his way to the parking lot, he phoned the Italian restaurant situated a few blocks away and ordered the take out lasagna. It was a small place, run by a family, where he took Amy once after the cinema, and she’
d enjoyed the food and the place itself very much. He decided that he would pick up the food on his way back home.

  He had no problem with finding the drugstore, it was right around the corner as Amy described. As he looked around, he located the pharmacist, but she was clearly busy; she was explaining, to an elderly man, how to apply some medicine. Convinced that it couldn’t be that hard, he decided he would deal with finding what Amy needed by himself. After some time of aimless wandering between the shelves, he found the corner where women’s personal items were displayed. From his suit jacket, he retrieved the scrap of paper, which Amy had given him, studying it carefully.

  With a heavy frown, he glanced from what Amy had written, to the whole range of small boxes and packages in front of him. He started examining one after another, but had problems with finding the kind Amy mentioned... organic tampons, mini or regular with grooves, he murmured to himself as he stared at the colorful boxes in front of him. He scratched his head; what grooves should those tampons have? Perhaps the pads should be easier... He moved a few steps to the left to the boxes of sanitary pads. But here the matter wasn’t any easier; chlorine free maxi overnight with flexi-wings? The note read. What the hell? He felt quite warm. Couldn’t the names be simpler, just tampons and pads?

  “Can I help you?” a woman’s voice drew his attention.

  Jake met the gaze of the pharmacist with a kind expression on her face. “No, I’m fine, just looking for something,” he said quickly and averted his eyes.

  “Something for your wife?” she asked knowingly with a polite smile. She glanced meaningfully at his wedding band prominently displayed on his right hand. She was attractive and in her early fifties.

  Jake looked miserably at the shelf tightly stocked with a variety of products. It would have taken him ages to figure out on his own what Amy wanted.

  “I...” he started hesitantly, but the pharmacist’s expression was helpful and patient. “You see ,my wife has got a cold and she can’t get out of the house, and she asked me to...” He handed the woman the note from Amy. “We’ve been married for a short time and I don’t know...” He stopped and asked himself why he was saying all this to a complete stranger?

  The pharmacist smiled with understanding as she skimmed the note. “That’s fine. I think I know what your wife needs. Perhaps you would like to wait by the cashier counter while I select everything from the list?”

  “Thank you,” he said with relief, and he absolutely meant it.

  As he walked away, he caught with the corner of his eye the pharmacist shaking her head and smiling to herself, while she packed some boxes into a paper bag. This was definitely not funny. He hoped it was the last time he was forced to provide Amy with such articles.

  His really couldn’t feel any better when he left the pharmacy. His order at the restaurant was already waiting for him, so he managed to get back home in half an hour.

  Amy ran to him when he opened the door.

  “You shouldn’t get up,” he scolded her.

  He put the bags from drugstore and the restaurant on the small table beside the door. His arm curled around her waist and he held her to him, while he closed the door. It always amazed him how small her midsection was, especially in comparison to that killer perky ass of hers.

  “Well, do you have it?” she asked as she glanced at the bag with the drugstore logo.

  In response, he handed her the paper bag.

  She took it from him. “Was it very hard?”

  “I tried to find it on my own but in the end the pharmacist helped me. Eventually I just showed her your note. Does it have to be so very complicated?” he asked incredulously. “What are grooves and wings?”

  She let out a soft chuckle and rolled her eyes when she opened the bag and took a peek inside. “It’s not really difficult. And thank you, I can imagine how hard it must have been for you. You were very brave.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, before she padded towards the bedroom.

  When she entered the kitchen a few minutes later, he was putting lasagna on the table.

  He eyed her. She’d changed into fresh pajamas. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded and then wrinkled her nose. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “You must eat to regain your strength,” he announced firmly.

  He sat her by the table, and put the plate with lasagna in front of her.

  “I can’t.” she pushed her plate away. “It’s because of the antibiotics, I don’t have any appetite.”

  “Come on, it’s your favorite,” he coaxed her, and pushed the plate back to her. “Lasagna with spinach from your favorite restaurant.”

  He didn’t really believe in that excuse about the antibiotics and the lack of appetite. He was sure that she wanted to use her illness to lose a few pounds. He’d noticed she tended to skip her breakfasts, and a few times she’d made some unflattering remarks concerning her figure. His attempt to tell her she was perfect as she was, went past her ears. Sure, she was no stick, but he liked that in her, lush ass and the sexy rise of her belly. The last thing he wanted for her was to turn so thin he’d be able to count all her ribs.

  “No.” She shook her head and again pushed the plate away.

  Jake prayed for patience, she acted not much better than a small capricious child did. At least he knew what he could expect if they were blessed with a daughter one day. Instantly the image of a two-year old girl with long blonde hair, big green eyes and freckled little face came to his mind, and he melted inside.

  “Jake?” Amy’s concerned voice brought him back to the present. “Are you all right?”

  He shrugged. “Yes, why?”

  “You were smiling, rather strangely just a moment ago.” She cocked her brow skeptically. “So blissfully.”

  “It’s nothing.” His eyes swept over her warmly. She wore glasses. After some two weeks of pretending that she didn’t have them, she started wearing them in his presence. He thought it to be a good sign. “Perhaps I’ll tell you why one day,” he added with a tenderness he could rarely remove from his voice when talking to her. “Now,” his tone turned more firm, and he pushed the plate just under her nose. “You will eat this or I’ll phone your father.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, but started eating obediently.

  When she finished the lasagna, he made sure she took her medicine and packed her into the bed with her Vogue. It took him a while to put the kitchen into order. He was tired and he was tempted to leave the dirty dishes for the night, but he knew very well how it would have ended. She’d have started washing them on her own first thing in the morning.

  She was reading some article when he entered the bedroom. It had to catch her interest because she was chewing on her lower lip and curling the wisp of her hair around her finger. He’d noticed that habit of hers years ago, when he’d worked for her father, and she’d been coming to the factory after school, waiting for Thomas. She had always come with some book. The variety of genres she’d read had amazed him even then, beginning from some thick historical volumes, to cook books, crime stories, and quite often romances, judging by the covers with half naked woman with heaving bosoms in the arms of some packed guy. God, he’d been attracted to her even then, even though she’d never given him a second glance at the time.

  Having taken a quick shower he crawled under the covers with a weary sigh, and reached for her automatically. But she threw the magazine away and giving him a peck on the cheek whispered. “I need to run to the bathroom.”

  A short moment later, he felt her snuggling next to him.

  “You ok?” he asked, as he rubbed her back sleepily.

  “Mhm...” she murmured, but soon rolled onto her back, a slight frown on her face.

  “Something wrong?” He glanced at her. “You’re not feeling well?” He checked her forehead, but it was cool.

  “No, I’m fine, just my breasts are so swollen.” She stretched herself, as if wanting to find the most comfortable position for herself. />
  His eyes flipped opened and he stilled, not being sure whether he heard her right. Suddenly he wasn’t that sleepy as he thought a moment ago. His eyes went involuntarily to the front of her pajamas.

  “Your breasts?” he managed, wondering if he heard right.

  She nodded. “You know, during the period, especially the first day, they are so tender that it actually hurts.”

  Her face still mirrored her discomfort. “I think, I can do something about it,” Jake said slowly. But when her trusting eyes met his, and he found there nothing more than permission, or perhaps even invitation, he stopped hesitating.

  He supported himself on his elbow, and reached with a slightly trembling hand to the buttons of her pajamas top.

  She lifted her head to smooth the hair falling on his forehead away. “You’ve been tired?”

  “Not anymore,” he whispered, his gaze all but glued to her chest.

  She had pretty breasts, rather on the small side, but high and perfectly formed, with nice wide pink nipples. There was a pattern of freckles scattered on them, just on the tops, which charmed him. His first impulse was to kiss those freckles off. But she was right, they looked swollen, and the nipples were puckered.

  Not being able to stop himself, he reached his hand to touch her. After a few moments of gentle stroking, she started to literally purr.

  “That’s so nice. Feels really wonderful,” she whispered closing her eyes. “You can do it to me every month when I have my period.”

  “I can do it every night,” he murmured as he bent to kiss the spot just under her right breast.

  Amy sighed and sank her fingers into his hair. But then she went silent and still. When he looked up, he found her sleeping.

  After a moment of gazing at her, Jake removed his own t-shirt and gathered her to him. All he craved was to feel her, skin to skin. Soon he drifted to sleep as well, her hot soft breasts mashed against his ribcage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was Saturday; still Jake came to the office to catch up on some work. Theoretically, he could have done the paperwork at home, but he was well aware that he’d have done very little with Amy around. Those several times when he’d actually taken papers home, despite his best intentions to get things done, he’d accomplished almost nothing. Simply put, it was impossible not to get distracted when she was nearby.