Honeymooning (4 page)

“Around the cabin?” Janet ran an experimental shot of hot water into the window-recessed bathtub, carefully not looking at Tom. She had a sudden image of herself, streaking around the cabin in nothing but her Fluevog Benatar heels. What would be more shocking? The paleness of her rear end or her white breasts that hadn’t seen daylight since a trip to Rio in the nineties? Even in Rio, she’d only taken her top off for seven minutes, before that unexpected shyness overcame her. No, no, no. Janet was
not
a shy person. Feeling that way again would not do.

“And you,” she said, turning back to her husband, hoping he hadn’t noticed her ridiculous blush, “when did you get so comfortable with nudity?”

“When I stood in front of that couple and realized that as long as I have my hat, I’m as good as fully clothed.”

“But what about me? I don’t have a hat.”

He appeared to consider the question thoughtfully. “You can wear mine. As long as I’m not using it.”

Janet took a deep breath and pulled her shirt farther down. She considered tucking it in and regretted it was too warm to wear more. “Why do we even care what they think?”

“Maybe seeing us being naked outside will keep people from coming to visit us. Word’ll get out it’s our honeymoon and maybe they’ll think we’re busy.”

“We
will
be busy. Trying to stay clothed.”

“Worst honeymoon ever,” said Tom, dropping a light kiss on her lips.

She grinned, suddenly heart-happy that he was with her. No matter what, he was her husband. “The worst.”

They ate dinner in a restaurant in which everyone wore clothing that covered every appropriate part of their bodies. Janet had never adored fabric more. Then they procured provisions from a corner store in which the store clerk drowsed on the counter, her head lifting heavily only to ring them up before she plunked it back down on top of an open newspaper. Bread, cheese, grapes, wine; they bought everything they would need to stay indoors. Tom insisted on paying for both dinner and the groceries, even though Janet protested.

On the way back to the hotel, Tom pushed the automatic window button. “See, why do they make this? Fancy cars and fancy things. Give me a window crank and a little elbow grease, like in my old Ford. That’s all I need.”

“It’s kind of common now.”

“Well.” He held his arm out the window, testing the night. “It’s warm all the time, huh?”


“That’s why people come here.” Janet leaned her seat back a little farther and stuck her left hand under his jeaned thigh, careful of her new ring. She liked the weight of his leg, how he made her feel anchored. The warm, damp air felt good on her skin, and she watched the lights of houses twinkle up on the dark hills.

“Well, it’s nice and all to visit. But what about cool, foggy mornings, the kind when you can hardly see the barn? I’d miss that too much if I lived here.”

“I won’t go getting any ideas, then.” She
had
thought briefly of a little
pied-à-terre
, but she could let that idea go easily enough. Rome, then. Tom would like Rome in the fall.

“You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to move. Nope. No, sir. No amount of money would make me leave Cypress Hollow.” He buzzed the window up a few inches and then down again. “Automatic windows. Sheesh.”

“You act like you’ve never seen that particular technology before. You’ve driven my Saab.” Janet felt on edge, suddenly. She took her hand back and placed it in her lap.

Tom didn’t notice and changed the subject. “So when we get back to the cabin, I think you should be the first to run around naked.” His grin was visible in low light of the dashboard. “I can’t wait to watch.”
 

Janet was still thinking about the windows. “All of this comes down to money for you, doesn’t it?” Her voice was ice.

“No, wait. What?” Tom looked confused, and Janet had a split second of feeling badly for him.

But this was important. “It’s
always
about money with you,” she said. “Who’s paying for what, who bought the last thing, and how you can be equal. If I buy you a bagel, you have to buy me a coffee the same day, even if I don’t want any. If I bought us a house, you wouldn’t want to live in it until you’d paid off half of it. When do we become really, actually married? Equal partners and all of that lovely stuff I thought we both meant when we made our vows.”
 

Tom shook his head as if to clear it. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Really? You think so? What about the fact that you insisted on booking this trip without my help, with your own money, and because you were clearance shopping, we end up in a place where they won’t let me wear the clothes I bought for this trip?”

“So you
do
hate it.” He leaned back against the headrest. His hat tipped precariously, but he didn’t take it off.

“I don’t hate it. I love that you wanted to be in charge of this. But you have to admit, it’s not the easiest situation.”

“In charge!” Tom nostrils flared. “That’s right. You like to be in charge of everything, and I don’t get a say. And when I do, it backfires. Like now.”

“That’s not true!” Janet was shocked. “I
don’t
have to be in charge.”

He looked sideways at her as he turned the wheel to drive down the dirt road that led to their cabin.
 
“You’ve got all the money so you feel like that gives you the bigger say. You want something, you get it. I say I want something to be a certain way, and you have to agree to it first. Your word is always the last word.” He paused, slowing the cars over the potholes. “It isn’t right, Janet.”

Damn it. This is why they never talked about it. It was too difficult. She felt as if she were spinning a plate on a pole—if she made one wrong move, it would crash to the ground and break, irreparable.

She took a deep breath. “So you think you should have an equal say because we’re married.”

“Yes.” Tom scowled.

“
That’s
what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Janet said. “We have the same say. You have the same amount of money as I do now because we’re married, and we have no prenup on purpose, because I want to share what I have with you.”

His posture changed, stiffened. “Big of you. Generous. God, Janet, do you know how that makes you sound? And worse, what kind of a person I’d be if I just took what you’re offering?”

“A reasonable one.” Janet pushed down her rising temper. “What if our roles were reversed? What if you were a hot-shot lawyer, and I’d always, oh, raised alpacas like Abigail? What if your bank account was full, and mine was empty, and you married me? Would you want separate accounts? To be fair and equal, going dutch on everything?”

“That’s completely different.”

She stared at him. “That’s
such
a double standard. I have money. You don’t have quite as much. Together, we both have more than enough.”
 

They parked next to the cabin.
 
The headlights clicked off, leaving just the light of the moon hanging over the broad, dark sea. Tom hadn’t replied yet, and Janet didn’t want to get out of the car until he did.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence, Tom said, “It’s not the way it should be. The man provides.”

“Not in all cases. Not in
this
case. I don’t mind being the provider, I really don’t.”

He looked so stricken that Janet immediately regretted the words—she’d been referring only to their finances. “Darling.” She turned sideways so that she was closer to him and kissed the underside of his jaw, a quick, light brush of her lips. “You provide me everything I actually need—love, companionship, laughter, and the hottest sex of my life. And no matter what, you’re
all
man. That’s one of the things I love most about you.”

“You’re just saying that.”

But she wasn’t. Tom could pick her up as easily as if he was lifting an empty pail. When he hugged her, he squeezed the breath out of her, and when she slept with her head on his chest, the low, steady thump of his heart sounded like home. He made her feel safe, always. And loved.

“We share our lives. Everything about them, including money,” she said. “What if you were given two horses?”

Tom wrinkled his nose in thought. “Huh?”

“Say that Cade gives you two horses. What do you do?”

“A man only needs one.”

“What would you do with the other one? Answer without thinking.”

“I’d keep the bigger one and give you the smaller one, let you name it.”

Janet smiled. “Why?”

“I’m sensing a trap here.” Tom’s fingers clenched around the steering wheel.

“You said a man only needs one horse.”

“Cain’t ride two at a time.”

“A girl only needs so much money. Even if I spent my heart out, I’d have money left over. And that’s for you. Because I love you, and because you’d give me that second horse in a heartbeat.”

“Huh.” Tom nodded, very slowly. “I guess I get that.” He fiddled with the car key ring. Then he looked at her, into her eyes, and there he was, her Tom. “I’m sorry I’m so cussed stubborn. And I’m sorry I got us into this fool mess here with the naked people. I guess if we both have money, then I coulda taken you somewhere better. Somewhere cold, maybe where everyone wears
extra
clothes.”

He’d heard her. He’d accepted it. Janet’s heart soared. “I like the warmth. And they’re nice naked people, though. Even if they’re somewhat…saggy.”

He smiled almost shyly. “I’ll love you when you’re saggy. You’ll be the hottest saggy woman in town. Will you love me when I’m wrinkled and stooped?”

Janet grinned. “I’ll love you from one side of the bed to the other so you won’t even need to use your walker.” She took a deep breath. “You know what? I forgot to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t get naked in front of other people. Lovers, yes. You, any moment of the day, my darling man. But elsewhere. No. I bet you didn’t know that.”

Tom looked surprised. “You mean…I’m better at bein’ in the altogether than you are? Really. I never woulda guessed that.”

“Something about nudism makes me
deeply
uncomfortable. And that is why,” Janet paused to take off first one heel, then the other, letting each clunk to the floor mat. “I’m going to do this for you.”

“What’s that?” Tom’s voice was endearingly eager.

“Unzip me, love?” She turned in the seat so that her back was to him. His fingers were cool at the nape of her neck, and then the zipper whisked downward. She opened the rental-car door and stepped out.

Clouds had formed overhead, but she stood in a puddle of moonlight, more vulnerable than she could remember feeling anytime in the last ten years. Dropping her right shoulder, then her left, she let the black dress skim from her body to the ground.

From the driver’s seat, leaning down so he could see the show out the passenger door, Tom eyes gleamed.
 

Janet’s heart raced. She turned her back and unhooked her black lace bra. Slowly, she spun in place so that she was facing him again. She let one strap fall off, then the other, holding the bra in place with one hand. Then she let that drop, too. The air felt good on her breasts, and she was wildly elated. This wasn’t like her, not at all, and it was wonderful.

She stepped out of her panties and for one long moment, she stood still in the moonlight.

Then she turned and very deliberately made her way to the walkway around the cabin. She felt Tom’s eyes on her as she went, and she added just the tiniest bit of extra sway, for spice. On the far side of the cabin where he couldn’t see her, she walked up the steps to their small porch. Below, the surf hissed and the white foam glowed in the moon’s trail. Leaning on the rail, she took a moment to look out at the water. At this moment, she felt completely free. Unencumbered. A frog chirruped nearby, and Janet smiled. If she could make that noise, she would chirrup back.

She was dressed in air, clothed by the warm, soft, plumeria-scented breeze that rested even more softly on her skin than Abigail’s knitted wedding shawl had.

It was magical.

She continued around the cabin back to the car, where she approached Tom’s open door.

“Hello, lover-boy.” Janet had never felt more beautiful. She could see the need in his expression.

“You’re not wearing anything at all,” he pointed out.

“You’ve seen it before.” But she smiled.

“Not like this. You’re gorgeous in the moonlight.”

“And you still have all your clothes on.”

Tom unfolded himself from the car and swept her up into his arms in one limber motion. “I forgot to do something earlier.” He carried her up the porch steps and then set her down. “Crap. Need the key. How do they carry ‘em without clothes on, anyway?” He dug in his pocket and slid the key into the lock until the light turned green. He shoved the door open with his foot.

“Now,” he said, turning his gaze down to her. “Where were we?”