“Why is Julie angry with me?” he asked when he returned to the living room.
“Angry with you?” she said sarcastically. “Hell. I'm not angry with you. You can wander off and stay six months if you like. It won't bother me a bit."
“Julie, I don't understand."
“I figured you'd be starved after working all day helping the Nickels’ move. I cooked you a big dinner, but you didn't show up. Where the hell were you?"
“Penny was in trouble. We all helped her. We didn't get finished until very late.”
“Penny, Penny, Penny—that's all you ever talk about. If she's so damned important to you, why did you move in with me?"
Billy dropped to his knees in front of the wheelchair and took Julie's hands in his. “Penny is a very special friend. Julie is a very special new friend."
She began to cry. “Where were you, Billy. I was so worried."
“I was right next door."
“Why didn't you come home?"
“I lay down on the floor in front of the fireplace to rest. I went to sleep. I came home as soon as I woke up."
“You could have called."
“Not while I was asleep."
“The Nickels should have called."
“You could have called the Nickels,” he countered.
“I kept thinking you would come home. By the time I gave up on you it was so late I was afraid I would wake up the Nickels with a phone call. I thought maybe you'd gone to your mother's house and she doesn't have a telephone."
“Julie, please don't cry,” he said as he stood up. “I'm sorry I worried you. I won't do it again.” He leaned over and kissed away her tears. “You go to bed now."
“Its too late. I have to be at work in less than three hours."
“Okay. Let me take a shower and I'll cook you the best breakfast you ever ate."
“You can cook?"
“Sure. I used to cook for mother and Pe ... you know."
She smiled weakly. “You can say her name. I know she's important to you."
“Thank you."
“Well, why are you standing there?"
“May I take a shower?"
“Of course. I'll go get dressed."
Billy showered, shaved, put on clean jeans and a green and red checked flannel shirt. He came down the steps and knocked lightly on Julie's bedroom door.
“Yes?"
“May I come in?"
“No."
“Okay. Julie?"
“Yes?"
“Thank you."
“For what?"
“For worrying about me."
Her tears returned.
* * * *
“You certainly do cook a great breakfast, Billy."
“Thank you, Julie."
“I've never tasted grits this good."
“Bacon bits."
“Bacon bits?"
“Yeah. You cook a couple of slices of bacon real crisp and drain off all the grease. Then you crumble the bacon into the grits and stir."
“I'll have to try that some day."
“Yesterday was your first day on your new job. How did it go?"
“It was awful. Total chaos. I hated it."
“I'm sorry."
“I thought it would be a day of getting organized. Boy, that's a laugh."
“Tell me about it."
“The editors have twelve books lined up to be published for our fall offering. I went through the printing bids and selected who gets what and sent the manuscripts on their way. The advertising agency Randy selected has never worked with a publisher before. Their jacket proposals were terrible. I had to explain everything to them in minute detail. No one even thought about order forms and representative layouts. There were stacks of manuscripts on the floor the editors hadn't even opened. It was a mess."
She looked up and burst out laughing. “You don't understand a thing I've said,” do you?"
Billy smiled and poured them both a second cup of coffee. “I understand a little.” He put the pot back into the coffee maker and with his back to her continued, “I understand something you don't."
“What's that, Einstein?"
“Einstein?"
“Never mind. What do you understand that I don't?"
“It was a wonderful day—not a terrible day. You felt needed. You know things they don't know. It made you feel good like working in the greenhouses makes me feel good."
Some dummy, she thought. “May I have more grits?” she asked.
* * * *
For three hours Randy fidgeted in the plastic chair he occupied in the waiting room at the Wake Forest University Medical Center. So many of their hopes for a baby dissipated at the last minute. Would this IVF thing fail also? He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and then remembered the no smoking rule. He had already read the jokes in three issues of Reader's Digest. He crossed the room, picked up two more copies and returned to his seat.
He looked up when a woman clad in white touched his knee. “It shouldn't be much longer now, Mr. Nickels. If you must smoke, there's a room down the hall where smoking is permitted."
“Thanks,” he said as he stood up and stretched. “I'm afraid I'm a nervous wreck.” He again pulled the pack from his pocket.
“With Mrs. Nickels about to become pregnant,” the woman said softly, “neither of you should smoke. It could harm the baby."
He watched her disappear through the swinging door, looked at the package of unfiltered cigarettes he purchased when he gassed up the car at the Dot Super Save and tossed them into the trashcan. “Jo and Mom are going to quit too. I'm not taking any chances with this baby,” he said to the empty room.
He sat back down and wanted a smoke more than ever. He heard the doors opening and stood up as Jo entered the room alone. She looked so fragile and yet, so brave. He hugged her and asked, “How'd it go?"
“The fertile egg is safely planted in my uterus, but, as Mary Lou once told me, the old fashioned way is a whole lot more fun."
“Let's get out of here."
“Randy,” she asked. “How many children would you like to have?"
“Honey,” he grinned, “I'll settle for one at this point."
“I want two,” she beamed, “and that's what we're going to have."
* * * *
At midmorning, Sandra Dollar eased through the open hospital room door, her eyes drawn from lack of sleep. Unlike Tim's private room, there were four patients in this ward. She spotted Penny and crossed the room to her bed. The two women looked at each other, but said nothing. Sandra drew the privacy curtain around the bed and pulled a chair up close.
“I'm sorry you lost the baby,” Sandra said.
“Poor little guy,” Penny replied.
“It was a boy?"
Penny nodded. “The doctor said I could have a funeral for him if I like."
“I think that would be nice."
Penny nodded again. “How's Tim?"
“He's in bad shape, but they moved him out of ICU a few minutes ago. He's sleeping."
“Is he going to be all right?"
“Physically, yes, but the nightmare both of you went through yesterday will follow you for the rest of your lives."
Penny nodded.
“Penny, I want to know what happened. A Detective Borders told me Tim just happened to be visiting and was caught up in some kind of gangland activity aimed at you."
“Yes, ma'am. It's a long story. My Uncle Amos and Tim's Uncle Harlow were involved in some sort of illegal business years ago.” Penny was surprised that Sandra expressed no curiosity about the illegal activity. After a brief pause she continued, “I found where Uncle Amos stashed most of the money he made. I made a bad choice. I wanted to keep it all to myself instead of reporting it. Somehow, Al Young, who I knew back in Florida, found out. He forced himself on me as my partner. He took most of the money to people he knew in Charlotte to get them to launder it for us. Instead, they murdered him and kept the money. They tortured Al
into telling them I still had part of the money. Yesterday they came for it. I think you know the rest."
“No, I don't know the rest. For starters, what was Tim doing at your house?"
“For a long time he has been trying to buy Uncle Amos’ ... my land for a housing development."
Sandra nodded. “I know about that. Go on."
“Yesterday he came with a new proposal. He wanted to buy most of the land, but leave me with..."
“Yes, yes,” Sandra interrupted irritably. “I know about that too."
“Well,” Penny said. “That's why he was there."
“I don't buy it. If he wanted to present you with a business proposal, he would have sent Vic Kimel, or at least Vic would have been with him. Now why was he really there?"
“If there was some other reason I don't know what it was."
“I am told that when the deputies arrived, Tim was naked and bound to a chair. What kind of kinky sex were you and Tim involved in?"
“He wasn't naked, Mrs. Dollar,” Penny said, rising to one elbow. “These guys thought Tim was Sean—my boyfriend. They tied him to a chair, yanked his pants down and brutally tortured him, including his private parts."
“Why would they do that?"
“To get him to tell where the money was. They tortured me too."
“Why didn't you just tell them where the money was and avoid all that pain?"
“I didn't have the money. Detective Borders confiscated it. If you don't believe me you can ask him."
“Was Tim the father of your baby?"
Penny sank back into the bed. “No ma'am."
“Don't lie to me, bitch."
“Tim was not the father of my baby,” Penny repeated, tears beginning to slip from her eyes.
“Listen to me, you little slut,” Sandra said as she stood and bent over Penny, their faces inches apart. “If you ever have sex my husband again I'll destroy you. I'll hurt you so bad you'll beg to die, but death won't come. You'll live in agony for the rest of your worthless life."
Penny glared into Sandra's exhausted eyes. Why do all married women take their husbands for granted? she wondered. “If anyone other than you has been sleeping with your husband, it's probably your own damn fault."
“My fault?” Sandra hissed as she drew back to slap her adversary.
Penny blocked the blow with her left arm. “A man who gets what he needs at home has no need to stray,” she said coldly. I could write a book, she thought.
* * * *
“Awake are we?” Sandra said as sweetly as her exhausted body and spirit would allow.
Tim nodded and managed to say through his wired jaw, “Nurse check."
She laughed. “They give you pills to make you sleep and then wake you up checking your temperature and pulse?"
He tried to smile as he nodded.
She pulled a chair next to the bed and held his hand in hers. “Tim, I'm so sorry."
“Me too."
“When I get you home I'm going to wait on you like you were royalty, because you are, to me. Listen to me for a minute. Don't try to talk."
He nodded.
“Tim, do you remember when we first met?"
His eyes smiled.
“You were a little afraid of me, and who can blame you? You wanted to get rid of me as fast as possible. I tried to change your mind by forcing sex on you, but you held out a long time."
“Few days,” he mumbled.
“When we finally did have sex, neither one of us could get enough of it."
He nodded.
“You gave me a whole new life, Tim. You made me your partner and your wife. You wanted me to participate in all the business enterprises and you encouraged me to follow my dream of becoming a writer. You bought me a computer and read my manuscripts. When I couldn't find a publisher, hell, you created one. By September my three novels will be in print."
“You deserve it. They're good."
“You gave me Tim Junior. Oh God, how I love that little boy."
“Me too."
She slid her hand under the sheet and lightly stroked his hip. “Tim, I love you so much, but I was so busy, and was having such a good time, and was feeling so important that I forgot..."
“Don't,” he said.
“I forgot how good sex is with you,” she continued, ignoring him. “I almost lost you yesterday. I swear to God I'll never forget again."
Her hand slipped to his testicles and she jumped back in alarm. “My God,” she cried. “What have they done to you?"
She threw back the sheet and pulled his hospital gown above his waist. She stared in horror at his swollen, discolored scrotum. “Baby, oh my poor baby,” she moaned and she softly touched the swollen mass with her fingertips.
“Good,” he mumbled.
“You like that?” she asked as she continued to tickle him.
He nodded.
“It doesn't hurt?"
“Hurts good."
She continued to stroke him gently and was surprised to see his penis begin to uncurl.
“Kiss,” he mumbled.
She leaned forward and very lightly kissed his bruised lips."
“Kiss,” he said again and pointed to his crotch.
“You old devil. I believe you're faking your injuries to get some attention from me.” She kissed the head of his penis and took it partially in her mouth. It became fully erect.
He moaned.
She jerked her lips away. “Did I hurt you?"
“No,” he moaned.
“You want a blow job as only Sandra can give it?"
He wagged his head from side to side while pointing first to her and then to his crotch.
“You're kidding."
“Turned on. Not kidding."
She grinned. “What if someone comes in?"
“We're married."
“What if I hurt you?"
“I'll risk it."
“You ... you want me to take my clothes off?"
He nodded and said, “Naked."
“I don't believe I'm doing this,” she said as she quickly removed her clothing.
She used her finger to insure vaginal lubrication and rubbed a little on the head of his penis. Awkwardly she climbed on the bed and straddled his hips. Carefully she impaled herself on his now throbbing erection. She began to move slowly.
“Okay?” she asked.
He moaned. His left hand went to her breast and he managed to rest his right hand on her thigh.
She moved faster. He moaned louder. She moved faster still. He moaned even louder.
“Mrs. Dollar!” an alarmed nurse exclaimed as she rushed into the room, having heard the moans. “What do you think you are doing?"
Without breaking stride Sandra gasped, “Physical therapy."
Finis
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Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors Page 78
