Lily of the Springs (23 page)

Read Lily of the Springs Online

Authors: Carole Bellacera

BOOK: Lily of the Springs
11.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He stopped when he saw me, still swaying. His brows lowered in a scowl.

“What’re you so dressed up for, girl? Going out on the town with your boyfriend?” His voice was unnaturally loud, and I just knew the women in the living room—and probably Betty—were hearing every word of it.

I marched over to him and grabbed his arm. “Lower your voice, Jake Tatlow,” I said, not even making an effort to contain my fury. “Did you forget that tonight was my Tupperware party? Yes, I suppose you did, seeing as how your brain is all pickled from liquor. Oh, Jake! How
could
you?”

He shook his arm free from my grip. “Who the
hell
do you think you are, talking to me like that, woman?” he shouted.

I’d forgotten the cardinal rule.
Don’t ever tell Jake what to do when he’s been drinking
.

“Jake, please!” I pleaded. “Some of the women are still here. Please don’t embarrass me like this.”

“Well, it’s my
goddamn
house, and I’ll be
damned
if I’m gonna be bossed around by a
damn woman
! Just because I’m married to you don’t mean I’m going to let you cut my balls off whenever you feel like it.” He pushed past me. “I’ve got to piss like a racehorse. You get them women out of my house, you here? When I’m done in the bathroom, I’m going to bed, and I want you there beside me.” He glanced back and gave me a leer. “Naked and wet for me.”

Rage coursed through my bloodstream. How
dare
he be so vulgar? “I’d rather sleep with a nest of rattlesnakes,” I said quietly, staring him directly in the eyes.

He blinked, and the blood drained from his face. His blues eyes turned icy, and I knew I’d gone too far. But I didn’t regret it.

“Is everything okay, Lily?”

It was Betty’s voice from the living room. I turned, and there she was, standing at the other end of the hallway, eyes watchful. In one hand, she held a cast-iron skillet. Behind her stood Karen and Barbara, looking scared but resolute. I knew, without a doubt, they’d protect me from Jake if need be.

Jake knew it, too. “You can put that skillet away, Betty.” He lurched toward her. She backed up, but kept a good grip on the skillet. “I ain’t gonna hurt her. Even if she
should
know better than to sass me like that. Well, what the hell do we have here?”

I followed him into the living room, knowing he’d caught his first glimpse of Barbara.
Oh, please, God, don’t let him say anything mean to her
.

But when Jake was drunk, there was no telling what he’d do. I knew I had to get Barbara and Karen out of the apartment. Betty had seen Jake at his worst before…or if she hadn’t seen it, she’d heard about it from me.

“Jake, Barbara and Karen were just leaving…” I cast a desperate glance at the two women, hoping they understood.

Jake was staring at Barbara, a stunned look on his face. And then, to my amazement, he began to laugh. Over his shoulder, I met Betty’s confused gaze. I could almost read her mind.

The man has gone off his rocker
.

Still chuckling, Jake looked at me. His eyes were in direct contrast to his grin. In fact, they looked a lot like what I imagined the eyes of them rattlesnakes I’d rather sleep with would look.

“Well, now. You’ve really done it this time, haven’t you, Lily Rae? Here I am hollerin’ at you because of the electric bill, and you’ve gone ahead and hired yourself a Aunt Jemima maid behind my back! Now, how do you think we’re gonna pay for that?”

I heard an audible gasp. I wasn’t sure whose it was, maybe my own.

“Jake! How dare you…” I managed to stutter.

Poor Barbara’s face had gone ashen, and redheaded Karen had two red spots on her cheekbones as if a cosmetic fairy had materialized out of thin air and waved a rouge wand in her direction. The blood had drained from Betty’s face, too, but her eyes were blazing with contempt.

“Jake Tatlow, there is no call for that kind of ugliness,” Betty said, her voice trembling with anger.

He ignored her, keeping his eyes on Barbara. “I’ll say this once, whoever you are. Get the fuck out of my house. Niggers ain’t welcome here.”


Jake
!” I shouted. I turned to Barbara. “I’m
so
sorry, Barbara. He’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

But my new neighbor wasn’t listening. All the life had disappeared from her beautiful face. It had become as if it were carved in stone. She turned stiffly to grab her pocketbook from the couch, and then with her head held high, she walked past Jake and then me, her eyes straight ahead, as lifeless as Kentucky coal. Her high heels tapped with furious intensity on the wood floor as she headed for the front door.

And then she was gone, leaving the room stunned and silent.

Betty was the first to speak. “I’m sorry, Lily. I know he’s your husband and you love him, but I hope he rots in Hell for that.”

It was as if Jake didn’t hear her. He turned and lurched unsteadily toward the hallway that led to the bathroom. Without meeting my eyes, Karen scooped up her pocketbook, mumbled a “thank you,” and left without a backward glance. I had a strong feeling I’d never see the woman again.

I met Betty’s stunned gaze. It was so quiet in the apartment we could both hear the sound of Jake’s urine streaming into the toilet bowl.

Finally, Betty spoke, “Get your things, Lily. You’re not staying here tonight.”

“But…Betty, I can’t just leave him…” My voice faded away as I recognized the steely look in her eyes and the rigidity of her jaw.

She spoke slowly and precisely. “I’m not leaving you here alone with him tonight, Lily. Debby Ann is already over at my apartment, and she’s probably sleeping by now. There’s no reason on earth for you to stay here tonight. Are you going to get your things, or do you want to sleep in that taffeta skirt? Your choice. But get this through that pretty little head of yours─I’m not leaving here without you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

 

I
stood at Betty’s living room window and watched Jake’s blue Plymouth pull out of the parking lot and head toward the post. I could tell just by watching him walk to his car that he was suffering from a humdinger of a hangover.

Well, good. After the horrible way he’d acted with Barbara last night, he deserved to feel rotten. I still felt mortified by what had happened. I’d wanted to go right over to Barbara’s apartment to apologize for him, but Betty had convinced me to wait until today to give her some time to calm down. No doubt she was right. Probably the last person in the world Barbara wanted to see last night was anyone connected with Jake.

A movement behind me drew my attention, and I turned to see Betty standing in the threshold. “Is he gone?”

I nodded. “I reckon it’s safe for us to go back now.” I slanted a glance at my friend. “But I still don’t think I was in any danger last night. Jake yells a lot, but he’d never hurt me.”

Even as I spoke, my brain flashed on that one time in the pick-up truck when I’d first told him I was pregnant. I could still remember his pinching grip on my chin after I’d slapped him for his ugly words insinuating I’d been sleeping around. His eyes had burned with rage, and yes, I’d been afraid of what he might do to me in that moment.

I blinked the thought away. “Anyhow, he cools down just as soon as the drink wears off.”

Betty tightened the belt of her satin robe, eyeing me thoughtfully. “How can you live with someone like that? Having to tiptoe around him, thinking about everything you say, hoping you won’t somehow set him off?”

My jaw dropped. “Betty, don’t you hear what I’m saying? He only gets like that when he’s been drinking!”

Betty didn’t speak for a long moment, then released a frustrated sigh. “How do you know which one is the
real
Jake? The sober man…or the ugly thug who comes out when he’s lubricated with booze?”

My hackles rose at Betty’s frank question. There hadn’t been many times in our friendship that I’d spoken up against her dominant personality, but this remark, I couldn’t let go. “You don’t know Jake like I do,” I said tightly. “He may say some ugly things and he may act ugly at times, but beneath all that, he’s a beautiful soul, and I see that in him. If you only knew what kind of horrible childhood he had, growing up with an ornery snake like his father, you might not be so quick to judge him.”

Betty stared at me, obviously stunned at my outburst.

I took a deep breath and gentled my tone, “Why do I put up with him when he gets like that? It’s simple, Betty. I love the man. Have ever since we were younguns…and that won’t
ever
change.”

 

***

 

After putting Debby Ann down for her afternoon nap, I curled up on the couch with
Ladies’ Home Journal,
and within moments, I’d become engrossed in a novel excerpt by Anya Seton. It was just the sort of novel I loved—the sort I’d
write
if I had the talent to do it—one full of romance set in an exotic foreign country, and by the time I’d finished the first page, I’d already decided I was going to pick up the
real
book next time I was at the drugstore.

It was just after three when I heard Jake’s key in the front door. My body tensed, and for a split second, I wondered if it was fear I was feeling. But no, of course it wasn’t. Apprehension, maybe, as I wondered what kind of mood he’d be in after last night’s ruckus…but not fear.

I laid the magazine face-down on the couch and composed my face into a smile as his combat boots clumped down the hallway. He appeared in the doorway of the living room, dressed in his fatigue uniform. Exercises must be going on at the post today, I thought, searching his face for a sign of his mood.

“You’re home early,” I said lightly, hoping against hope that all was well.

He seemed to be having trouble meeting my eyes. And wasn’t his face a little flushed? Finally, he cleared his throat. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.”

I looked down, my fingers playing with the fringe of my cut-off jeans. “Why not? It’s my home, ain’t it?”

When he didn’t speak, I looked up at him and caught the tormented expression on his face. “Sorry about last night,” he said softly. “Guess I had too much to drink.”

“Yes, I reckon you did.” I didn’t want to forgive him too easily. He had to know that what he’d done was dead wrong. “And I reckon you’ve got some apologizing to do…and not just to me.”

I’d stopped by Barbara’s apartment on my way back from Betty’s, but no one had answered the door. Maybe she’d gone out. Or maybe she just hadn’t wanted to answer, knowing who it was outside. But I couldn’t let more time go by without an apology, so I’d gone home and scribbled a note on the stationery pad I used to write Mother every week.

Dear Barbara: I am so very sorry for the horrible things my husband said to you last night. I know it’s not much of an excuse, but he was very drunk, and he just gets ornery sometimes with the drinking. I just want you to know that I was pleased as punch that you came to my party, and I hope we can be friends in the future. Yours Very Truly, Lillian Rae Tatlow.

I’d slipped the folded note under Barbara’s door, and hoped for the best. But Jake really needed to be the one to apologize. Surely he knew that.

I opened my mouth to say exactly that, but he beat me to it, giving me that soulful look he knew I couldn’t resist. “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of the apologies. But you’re the only one that really matters to me, Lily Rae. I just got to know you’re not mad any more.”

As always, my resistance melted against his boyish charm, even knowing deep down inside that his apology to the others…
if
he ever got around to doing it…might not be all that sincere. But how could I stay mad at him when he looked at me like that? All contrite and adorable like a mischievous little boy who’d got caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

I sighed. “’Course I’m not still mad. Come here, you.”

He gave me his trademark lop-sided grin—the one that always sent flutters through my heart, and then strode purposely toward me. I met him halfway. He took me into his arms and kissed me thoroughly.

Within seconds, my body was on fire, as if he were the kindling and me, the log of wood. His hand found its way under my cotton blouse, and with unerring ease, he unfastened the hooks of my bra. Then, still kissing me, he slipped both hands under my blouse and loosened bra, cupping my breasts tenderly in his palms. I moaned into his open mouth, my brain spinning.

He broke the kiss and skimmed a wet trail up my cheek to my ear, murmuring, “Is the baby sleeping?”

“Yes,” I gasped, clutching his muscular arms, breathing in the healthy male scent of him.

“Good. Come on.”

He led me into the bedroom, and still holding onto me, drew the shades down. Moments later, both of us were stripped naked. We tumbled onto the bed, and in the sleepy heat of the summer afternoon, he made love to me. As I writhed under him, I told myself I’d blown it all out of proportion. Jake had his faults, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t mean half the stuff he said. And he
had
said he’d apologize to Barbara, hadn’t he? I was sure of it.

And then I stopped thinking.

 

***

 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Jake said.

Zipping up my cut-offs, I looked over at him. He lay on the bed, propped up against a pillow, naked as a jaybird and smoking a cigarette. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his arms and chest in the afternoon light that crept beneath the edges of the drawn shades.

Despite the open windows beneath us and an electric fan on the top of the dresser that ineffectively stirred the hot air around, it felt like it was over a hundred degrees in the little room. The curls at the back of my neck clung damply to my skin and the discarded cotton blouse I scooped up from the floor felt as soggy as if it had been forgotten in the bottom of a laundry basket on the way to being hung on the line.

“A surprise, huh?” I asked, buttoning my blouse. I moved over to the window to let the blind up some. Maybe get a little outside air in. Even if it was hot as blazes outside, it might help a little.

Other books

Pulse by John Lutz
Black Seduction by Lorie O'Clare
Picture Perfect by Dixon, Camille
The Compendium by Christine Hart
Sleepless by Cyn Balog
Nomad by Matthew Mather
The Identity Man by Andrew Klavan
Trial by Fire by Jennifer Lynn Barnes
Out of Time by Lynne Segal