Sins of Omission

by Fern Michaels

  Two weeks wouldn’t be an eternity. They would all survive young Bebe’s visit, then give her a rousing send-off when she was ready to leave for England for the second leg of her European visit. Mickey laughed. Here she was arranging for Bebe’s departure and she hadn’t even arrived yet.

  Mickey deposited the wine bottles in the kitchen and ordered a pot of hot chocolate and a plate of cake. While she waited she wondered if anyone would ever go to this much trouble again for Reuben. Tears burned her eyes but she willed them away with a fierceness she didn’t know she possessed.

  Reuben and Daniel put their books aside for Mickey’s late night snack.

  Something was wrong, Reuben could sense it. Mickey’s eyes were too bright, her smile too tight. She’d been acting differently these past few days. Not exactly preoccupied, but she wasn’t always totally with him. Several times he’d caught her gazing through him as if he weren’t there. Once he questioned her, thinking he’d done something to offend her or that she was tiring of him. She’d wrapped her arms around him and looked deeply into his eyes. “No, chéri. If you did something to displease me, I would tell you. We made a bargain, did we not? Honesty at all times. Sometimes I think honesty between two people is more important than love.” He’d let it drop then, but the strange look was still in her eyes.

  Maybe it was the young girl who was coming to visit. Mickey had joked about keeping her busy, entertaining her. She’d said something like “you young people will have much in common,” implying that she was old; the same old sore subject. He hadn’t seen it that way at all and told her so. Although she’d acted amused, her mood had changed and she’d been warm but silent after that.

  It was Reuben’s first experience with jealousy, and he didn’t know how to handle it. If he had more experience…if he’d had women, girls even. Old George had said women fought with each other over men, pulling hair and scratching at each other. He’d called them cat fights.

  Reuben’s eyes were questioning when Mickey pecked him on the cheek. She blew Daniel a kiss. “Good night, chéris. No, no, don’t get up. I will see both of you in the morning.”

  Reuben nodded, thinking it must be “that time of the month.” He felt better almost immediately. Now he could spend some time with Daniel.

  “Are you happy, Daniel?” he asked, leaning back against the soft cushions of the settee.

  “I was thinking about that earlier in the evening. I am, thanks to you. There’s so much to learn, and Monsieur is being patient with me. He never seems to tire of my questions. My head just buzzes. What about you, Reuben? We see each other only for breakfast and dinner. Listen, if you think it’s time for us to leave or…” He floundered for the right words. “Don’t stay on my account. Promise me.”

  “Daniel, look at me. Do I look like I want to leave? I’m having the time of my life. It’s not time for us to leave yet. And don’t worry, I’ll let you know. This is good for both of us.”

  “You’re happy, then?” Daniel’s voice was full of concern.

  “Very happy. I’m learning, too. We’re going to make a good business team someday. Now, tell me what you think of Bebe Rosen’s visit. What do we do with the young lady? Mickey wants us to be sure she has a good time. That means you must give up several hours a day, and so must I.”

  Daniel blinked at the intensity in Reuben’s voice. So…

  “Another thing. Next month it will be Christmas. We have to think about a present for Mickey. I have all our pay intact. We must get her something so special, she can remember us after…you know…when we leave.”

  “Maybe Bebe will have some idea,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “Girls always know about things like that. Mickey already has everything. What could we give her that would make up for all this?”

  Reuben shook his head. “The cost of the gift isn’t important. It’s the thought and the effort that goes into the gift. We’re going to have to be inventive and original. I did sort of have an idea, though.”

  “What is it?” Daniel asked.

  “It might not work. I’m going to go to the village tomorrow and make some inquiries. If I get the right answers, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  Daniel shrugged. “That’s fine with me. Listen, I hate to bring this up, but have you thought about going back to America?”

  “No, not yet. I think we’re going to stay for a while.” Reuben smiled at Daniel’s happy face. “In the meantime, I mentioned trying to get a job in the village, and Mickey convinced me there was plenty of work here. She asked me to come up with things I’d like to get involved in, and I think I’ve got some ideas. For instance, I’m sure her wines would be great in the States.”

  “Have you mentioned it to her yet?”

  “No, not yet…but soon, very soon. I don’t like mooching off her like this.”

  Daniel read Reuben’s thoughts and changed the subject. His friend would handle it, and besides, he felt exactly the same way. There didn’t seem to be any way he could pay her back now. Someday, though, he knew he would turn himself inside out to do just that.

  “How are your eyes, Daniel?” Reuben asked. “The truth.”

  “Much better. They hardly tear at all now. By late afternoon, though, I have to have the compresses. It feels good to keep them closed for an hour or so. Can’t see things at a distance too well, but I can see. That’s enough for me. I’m going to have to wear glasses later on. That doesn’t bother me, though.”

  “Good! And the shoulder?”

  “A little stiff in the morning, but otherwise no problems. How’s your leg?”

  Reuben laughed. “A bit stiff in the morning, but okay. Depends on what I’m doing. The other day I was moving some grape boxes, and it bothered me. We’re both going to be fine, considering we came that close to being dead.”

  “I know. Sometimes I wake up in a sweat. I try not to think about it. Each day it gets better. How’s your vision?”

  “Impaired. I have very little sight in my left eye. The right one isn’t quite normal. How do you think I’ll look in spectacles?”

  “Reuben! You never said a word! Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Daniel cried.

  “Because I was afraid you’d think the same thing was going to happen to you. There’s nothing either of us can do about it. And I know you, Daniel, you’d start feeling guilty that you fared better than me. It’s over. We’re both going to live with it.”

  “If you’d gone back, if you hadn’t come after me…you’d have gotten the medic to help you quicker. You should have told me.”

  “Daniel, listen to me. A life is more important than a set of eyes. I’d hate it if I was blind, but I’m not, and neither are you. If I had it to do over again, I’d do the same thing. You would have done the same for me.”

  “I don’t know about that. I probably would have been too scared. I’d have frozen on the spot.”

  “That’s what you say now. Back then you would have done what had to be done. So let’s just drop it for now, okay? I think I’ll try to read for another hour and then turn in. Mickey might quiz me tomorrow.” Reuben said with a crooked smile. “Have you ever read Zane Grey, Daniel?”

  “Yes, but I can’t say he’s a favorite of mine. It’s hard to believe Mickey likes that kind of writing. Sometimes I can’t quite figure her out,” Daniel muttered, his eyes already on the book in his lap. But he was only pretending to read. Someday…

  Mickey’s surprise Thanksgiving feast stunned Reuben and Daniel.

  “Is it a good surprise?” Mickey asked them. “Tell me the truth, is this like it is in America? I could do only what you described to me.”

  “So that’s why you asked all those questions.” Reuben grinned. “It’s perfect. I’ve never seen so much food at one time. Who’s going to carve this magnificent bird?”

  “You are, chéri. I will show you how.” She felt so wonderful standing next to him as she instructed him how to carve into the bird and then slice down. They loved her surprise. Perhaps, though, it would
make them sad thinking about America. But when she looked up at Reuben, there was no sadness in his eyes at all; they held only warmth, dark and gentle, the way they always did when he gazed at her with love. She released her breath with a soft swooshing sound.

  Their plates filled, Mickey surveyed her guests. “A prayer for this bountiful table is in order. Daniel, will you do it?”

  Daniel nodded. “Bless us, oh Lord, for this bountiful dinner.” It was a short blessing because he was starving. The Lord would understand.

  An hour and a half later, the Three Musketeers retired to the library for their coffee and pie. Thirty minutes after that, they were sound asleep on their respective chairs.

  When they woke, tired and sluggish, Mickey suggested a walk and elicited a promise that afterward, Reuben and Daniel would teach her how to play poker.

  “For money?” Reuben queried playfully.

  “But of course. It is no fun to play for matchsticks or raisins.”

  Reuben grinned. “What do you say, Daniel, a little five-card stud?” Already the walk was forgotten.

  “Sounds good to me. Shall I explain the rules?”

  “I must warn you, I have never been lucky at cards,” Mickey said ruefully. Three hours later Daniel and Reuben were down twenty dollars. Mickey had won the last three pots, the first with an inside straight, then a flush, and finally a full house. She laughed gleefully as she recorded her winnings.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get an inside straight?” Daniel grumbled. “And a full house. I’ve never had one of those.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” Mickey said charitably. “Tomorrow will you show me how to shoot the dice?”

  “Roll the dice,” Reuben muttered. “I suppose you want to play that for money, too.” It wasn’t exactly a question.

  “If you want to play for raisins, it is all right with me. But money is so much more exciting,” Mickey teased, but then her eyes locked with Reuben’s. “I’m tired. Winning money is an exhausting business. Good night, chéris.” She blew kisses in their general direction, then mounted the stairs to the second floor. Reuben grinned. No kiss on the cheek meant he was to join her when he was ready. There would be other, more meaningful kisses.

  It was near midnight, the witching hour, when Reuben made his way down the hall to Mickey’s room.

  Mickey stood on the inside of the door, her ears attuned to her lover’s footsteps. She sighed. At first she’d thought he wasn’t going to come to her, but then she’d heard the water gurgling in the pipes and knew he was taking a bath. Earlier she’d done the same thing, just to be clean and fresh…for him. The door opened; she was in his arms and he was loving her.

  The French silk robe fell open under his commanding fingers, and when he captured her breast, its pink nipple rose to greet him and bring him delight. Slowly he teased her ear with his tongue, following the pulse points to her neck and throat. He wanted her urgently, but he would take her slowly, deepening the pleasure. His hands traced the contours of her body, following its curves, caressing its hollows. He explored the depths of her mouth and the silkiness of her thighs. This was Mickey, his lover, as familiar to him now as the back of his hand and yet, somehow, always new territory to be charted.

  Her emotions were charged, more finely tuned than ever before, and when he closed her hand over the proof of his desire, she communicated her own demands.

  She hurried him with her kisses, excited him with her soft mewlings and murmurs, undulated beneath his caresses. She wanted him now, desperately. She felt she would erupt with a wildness too long contained. There would be time later for luxuriating in his arms, to have his hands soothe this fever, to have his lips take possession of her inch by inch. Now she needed completion.

  Her thighs opened, her back arched, and he became a part of her. In the white heat of her passion she entrapped him, feeling him stroke within her, locking her legs behind his, to take him deeply inside her, where the warmth was building.

  Her body exploded into thousands of shimmering, shattering jewels as the waves of her passion swept her under, and she rose to the surface crying Reuben’s name over and over.

  Spent, they lay back in the mound of soft pillows. Their mouths touched, tasting of each other. They lay naked together without benefit of covers, and when they sought each other again it was with tenderness. Their mouths were gentle, and their fingers softly caressed. And when their passions quickened, Reuben calmed her with his touch and crooned soft words of love.

  His mouth became a part of hers, and her heart beat in a wild, broken rhythm. They strained toward each other, caught up in the designs of yearning. Together they mounted the obstacles of the flesh and joined breath and blood, flesh and spirit.

  Chapter Six

  The day after Thanksgiving the air was cold and crisp. The sun shone in that particular light of late fall that was more silver than gold. Mickey and Reuben labored to polish the Citroën touring car on the pebbled apron outside the barn as the postman arrived. Mickey was on one side of the car and Reuben on the other, their eyes meeting every few seconds, their light laughter a pleasant sound in the afternoon quiet. Reuben’s eyes adored Mickey. She had changed since those early days at the hospital. Gone was the sophisticated lady. Her preferred dress was casual, soft clothing that barely skimmed her figure. Her slacks, a revolutionary style she had adopted, were nipped at the waist and fell in long straight lines to her ankles, her round bottom accentuated by the clever fit and tailoring. Even her hair, newly coiffed with a little fringe of bangs and a coronet of braids, gave her an air of simplicity and freshness.

  Mickey read the happiness in Reuben’s eyes and took full responsibility. He’d told her earlier, when she’d handed him the polishing cloths, that he was happier than he’d ever been in his life thanks to her. “I don’t ever want this to change!” he exclaimed, his eyes darkening. “Do you hear me, Mickey? Whatever it takes, whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

  She’d wanted to caution him, to admonish him, to say all those sophisticated and wise things she had been saying all along, but she couldn’t. In just a matter of weeks all her resolve had fallen away. Her own gaze was as intense and passionate as Reuben’s, but still she had difficulty with the words.

  “Smile, Mickey,” Reuben said quietly. “At me, not at the postman.” And she’d rewarded him with a dazzling smile that warmed his heart.

  “Numbers,” she murmured as she sifted through the pile of letters.

  “Only if you make it an issue,” Reuben said forcefully. “You know it doesn’t make any difference to me. When are you going to get that through your head? It doesn’t matter,” he said, enunciating each word carefully.

  “For now, no, it doesn’t matter. But later?” She shrugged. There was a desperation in her voice, a sadness in her eyes. She wanted to believe him and she did, for now. But later…what then?

  As if reading her thoughts: “Later, you and I are going to have a talk, the conversation you always avoid because you are afraid to hear what I have to say. You, Michelene Fonsard, are a coward,” Reuben said heatedly when he saw her shaking her head. “Later, I want it settled between us.”

  “Yes, yes. Later we will talk. It is a promesse. Continue with the Citroën while I take the post into the house. There is a letter from America which I must read. Would you like me to bring you an apple when I return?”

  “Two,” Reuben said. “We’ll sit in the hay and eat them together.”

  Mickey chuckled. “You are a hopeless romantic, my love. But I will bring them.”

  Reuben continued his labors on the car, his movements fast and furious as his arms reached for the center of the hood. He wanted his position settled, once and for all. If Mickey wouldn’t or couldn’t come to terms with him, then he and Daniel would have to leave. He wouldn’t be jerked about like a puppet on a string.

  His arms trembled with the exertion. The thought that kept creeping into his head surfaced again: He wanted to marry Mickey Fonsard. He d
idn’t care about age, all he wanted was to be near her, to be able to love her. To awaken beside her, to find her across the table from him, to reach out and touch her when they sat before the fire. And then the niggling inner voice attacked him: What happens to your dreams of making it on your own? Of becoming successful in your own right? You want power and wealth. Your own power and wealth. Someday you’ll want children and Mickey can’t give you that.

  “There’re orphans!” Reuben shouted, the sound of his voice echoing off the side of the barn.

  Which do you want more? the voice whispered. Mickey or the freedom to find your own future?

  “Shut up,” Reuben answered through clenched teeth. “It’s not that simple. This is now. I have the rest of my life for all that other stuff.”

  But what about Mickey? Every day she grows older…older…older.

  Reuben shivered despite the heavy wool sweater he wore. His attention wandered from the polishing. Little puffs of vaporized breath escaped his lips into the cold air.

  A parade of chickens trekked past him. He wondered inanely if it was a family or just a bunch of chickens taking a walk. He dropped the cloth he was holding and watched the chickens. Where were they going, and why were they in a group?

  Numbers…Him and Daniel. Him and Mickey and Daniel. A unit, a family. Man didn’t do it alone. Somewhere, someplace, there was always a woman. That didn’t mean he couldn’t do it on his own. It just meant it would be easier if there was someone to share with. The chickens scattered; wings flapped, and gravel spurted behind them. Disgust showed on Reuben’s face. So much for chickens and families.

  Mickey settled herself in the kitchen with a cup of tea. First she opened the letter from Sol Rosen. A vague feeling of foreboding washed over her as she unfolded the crackly paper. Bebe was due to arrive within the week.