Contingency (Covenant of Trust) (24 page)

“Yes, and I have to say no.” Bobbi opened the large cabinet that served as her main cupboard.
Chicken. I can fry it and do baked potatoes. Wait, I don’t have potatoes. Rice. Have I got any rice?
She moved boxes to the side.
I really need to go to the grocery store soon. Rice, yes!
She pulled the package out and inspected it. Not enough for four people.

It hadn’t been so long ago that Bobbi planned meals two weeks at a time so she rarely ran out of anything. Now, if she planned two hours in advance it was an accomplishment.

Breakfast. I’ll make pancakes. Surely, I’ve got eggs and flour.
She checked the refrigerator.
Thank God. Eggs and enough milk for dinner.
Now that she had a plan, autopilot kicked in and got her through the preparations.

*******

“
Brad, I’ll be
by about six tomorrow so we can eat before the game,” Chuck said, as he finished his last bite.

“Okay.” Brad began collecting dishes and carrying them to the kitchen. “I cut the grass,” he announced before disappearing through the doorway.

“
You look tired
,” Chuck said to his wife once the boys cleared out of the dining room. Since July, the emotional strain had grayed Bobbi’s hair, and creased her brow. He wondered if anything could erase the dark circles under her eyes.

“It’s been a long week. Well, they’re all long these days.” She refolded her napkin and set her glass on it. “I ran into Lorraine Kinney this afternoon.”

“I’ve got a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow, so can we just call it a night?” She pushed her chair back from the table. “Joel? Hurry up with the computer!”

“It’s not
things,
Chuck! You were with another woman!” She didn’t yell, but her eyes blazed. “You destroyed everything I believed about you, and about our marriage. Every time I think about it, I get physically ill. It’s all I can do to keep from throwing up.” She crossed the room away from him.

“You told me you loved me in the morning and then you spent the night with someone else.” She took a deep breath and continued softly. “You had sex with her, and then came home to me like nothing happened. You’re right, Chuck. I
don’t
want to talk about it. Not now, not ever.” She started to walk out of the dining room, but Chuck intercepted her.

“You’ve got to face it. That’s the only way we can work through it.”

“Face it? I can’t get away from it!” She swept her hand in front of her in a broad arc. “My whole life is framed by your affair.”

Chuck stepped closer. Should he try to hold her? He started to raise his hand, but Bobbi caught sight of the subtle movement. She pointed at him with her jaw clenched. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

“Bobbi, let me—”

“No. Just go, all right?”

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? You’re not thinking about splitting, right?” Hadn’t they made any progress since July?

“You know Joel’s in the other room and can hear us. You expect me to answer that?”

“Yes, I do. You threatened me before. Do you want a divorce?”

“No, but I’ll tell you what I do want,” she answered, her voice as firm as his. “I want to be able to look people in the eye again. I want to be able to face people, and not wonder what they know.” She began to soften. “I want to wake up without the weight of shame and humiliation on my shoulders. I want to love you again without having to justify it to myself or anybody else.” She blinked and a single tear spilled onto her cheek as she pointed at his heart. “I want you to deserve to have me love you again.”

*******

Chuck stood on
Tracy’s porch, waiting for her to answer the door. His grip tightened on his toolbox as he glanced down the street. Doing a favor for a co-worker, that’s all. It was perfectly normal for him to be here.

And he would tell Bobbi that. If she ever found out. If she ever asked. There was nothing wrong with him being here. Nothing.

He swallowed hard and peered through the window panel in the door, then he checked his watch. Eight o’clock, just like they’d agreed. At last, he heard a click, and the door swung open. His eyes immediately dropped to her white tank top. When she smiled, he knew she’d caught him looking.

She pushed the storm door open, but not wide enough that he could avoid brushing against her as he stepped inside. “Hey, sorry it took so long for me to answer. I was back in the laundry room.”

He followed her into the living room, watching her hips as she walked, the way her shorts followed her curves. She was so at ease with herself.

She bent over an open cardboard box in the floor and pulled out a sheet of paper. “For the record, I have handed you the instructions. My responsibility in this is now done.”

He laughed and took the sheet, his fingers brushing hers. He walked under the ceiling fan, checking the sheet. “Looks pretty straightforward. Is the lamp on the same breaker?”

“
No idea.”

He switched the lamp on. “We’ll find out. Lead me to the breaker box.” He waited for her to pass so he could watch her walk, then turned on the light in the entry hall before following her to the laundry room.

She stretched in front of him and flipped a breaker. “That’s the living room. I know that much.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’ve got some stuff to do upstairs, but come get me if you need anything.” She reached over and squeezed his bicep. “I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

An hour and a half later, he had the new ceiling fan installed, and the old one stuffed in the cardboard box. He walked back to the laundry room to the breaker box, hoping Tracy had come back down to do another load of clothes. She was nowhere around.

Did she expect him to come looking for her? Was she waiting for him in her bedroom? He couldn’t ... That was too obvious. He had no defense against that. He needed some kind of story …

He wandered back to the living room. She had to make the first move, otherwise …

“
Finished already?” She surprised him.

“
Ninety minutes, as promised.” He nodded toward the new fan. “You want to do the honors?”

“
Absolutely.” She walked over and clicked the light on, then pulled the chain to start the fan. “Perfect. You do good work, Mr. Molinsky.”

“
We aim to please.”

“
Do you?”

What a loaded statement. He had to let it go, though. He couldn’t start things. He smiled at her and knelt down and began dropping tools back in his box.

“
Here. The least I can do is help.” She knelt beside him and dropped his voltmeter in. Every move drew his eyes to her cleavage and filled the air around him with her scent.

As she pulled her hand back, she touched his knee, hesitated for just an instant, then eased forward. He froze until her lips pushed his open. She ran her tongue across his upper lip, and he felt himself relax. He slipped a hand behind her head, and kissed her once, then again.

She pushed away, and he started to protest until she locked her eyes on his. She crossed her arms in front of her, and pulled her tank top over her head. She crushed her body against his, her tongue forcing his teeth apart.

He had to remind himself to breathe. Bobbi ... Bobbi never ... it wasn’t like this. She tugged at him, and he ripped his shirt off. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I use a patch.”

*******

“
Want a glass
of wine, or a beer?” Tracy was already on her feet, padding to the kitchen. She was trim and fit, not at all like a woman who’d had two kids. Silhouetted by the refrigerator light, she fulfilled every dream he’d had.

“
I don’t ...” Never mind. He watched her reach in the cabinet for the glasses, admiring the perfect curve of her back. As she walked back to him, she never dropped her eyes. His staring pleased her.

She dropped beside him, poured a glass of red wine, and handed it to him. She poured a second glass, and set the bottle on the coffee table. “I have a bed. We don’t have to lay here in the floor.”

“
I should get going ...” Suddenly aware of his dry his mouth, he gulped the wine.

“
Easy, there.” She smiled and arched an eyebrow as she refilled his glass. “You don’t want to go, though, do you?”

“
Honestly?”

“
I knew it.” She sipped her wine and set the glass on the table with the bottle. “You always do what you should do.” She slid her body against his. “Just this once, do what you want to do.”

“
You always do what you want to?”

“
Always.” She kissed him, the taste of wine still on her lips. He couldn’t resist kissing her again, then he stopped for another gulp of the wine, marveling that it was already taking effect. He hadn’t had a drop since college, since he became a believer, a believer who knew better than to be with a woman who was not his wife.

He rolled over and sat up. “Look, I’ve ... I need to go ...” He reached for his shirt.

“
Chuck, you’re drunk. You can’t drive now. I won’t let you.”

“
I’m not—”

“
You’ve had four glasses of wine in ten minutes. You’ll go to jail if you get pulled over.”

“
It hasn’t been ...” He rubbed the back of his head and blinked. He could remember the first glass and when she poured the second ... but four? Had he really? “I’m not drunk. I couldn’t be.”

“
All right, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“
Three.”

“
One.”

He was sure he saw three. Maybe he shouldn’t try to drive just yet.

*******

Before Chuck opened
his eyes, his brain registered something different. A different smell. Hotel in Kansas City? No ... He forced his eyes open, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure where he was. But then he heard breathing, and it all crashed back into his consciousness.

Tracy ... He had ... His life was over. Bobbi would ... and who could blame her ... No, Bobbi would never know. And this would never happen again.

He snatched up his shirt and shoes without daring to wake Tracy. Mercifully, her body was covered as she slept on her living room floor, but the pillows and the blankets weren’t there when he fell asleep. He knew that much.

His toolbox wasn’t anywhere close. He’d get new tools. Small price to pay. Wallet. Keys. Get out. But what about ... what about locking her front door? No. If he woke her up, she’d start all over again, and he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Just get out fast.

He checked his watch. Two-twelve. Six hours! How? How could he? He backed out of the driveway without starting the car, or turning on the lights, but as he put the BMW in gear he began to shake, great tremors in his hands, his legs. Freezing and dizzy, he blinked to keep his eyes focused.

He never meant to ... He just wanted ... Sweat beaded across his upper lip and across his shoulder blades. And she ... What was he supposed to do when she ...? She was so... and she knew how to push all his buttons. If Bobbi knew he had any buttons, she didn’t care whether she pushed them or not. Tracy ... it was like water in the desert.

He slapped his face hard. “Bobbi is my wife. I love Bobbi. She’s the mother of my sons. We’ve been married eighteen years, for crying out loud!” But in eighteen years, she never made him feel the way Tracy made him feel. And Bobbi had never, ever made love to him like that. Never.

But he was married. It was wrong. One hundred percent wrong. Totally. Wrong. And if Bobbi ever found out, he’d be paying for these six hours for the rest of his natural life. So, she could never find out. He’d be a good husband from now on, and she’d never have to know. No blood, no foul.