Shelter Me (20 page)

I didn't mind, really. Lakeshore was situated on a beautiful little waterfront, as its name implied, and there were plenty of woods to get lost in, but never
too
lost. It was actually a relief that Lakeshore wasn't necessarily one of those parts of my childhood I'd have to give up. Then again, Mark might end up planting his own church any day now, one that wasn't affiliated with the camp. There was no way to be sure what his future held. For now, I just had to enjoy what time I had left here.

Mark and I got one of the "nice cabins," which was a new experience for me. In the past, I'd always pitched a tent with my family. But this cabin actually had a door that closed all the way, indoor plumbing, and a double-wide bed that would accommodate us both comfortably.
 

"I almost feel kinda bad," I said to him on the first night, lounging on top of the only-slightly-scratchy mattress.
 

"Don't," he said. "We've earned it."

After he brushed his teeth, he climbed in to bed and nuzzled against me, his stubble scratching the sensitive skin on my neck. I froze, but didn't pull away. We hadn't tried to make love again since the last time, and I started to feel my whole body tense up at the thought.

"Relax, baby," he whispered, climbing on top of me and kissing me roughly. He was already hard and eager, and I couldn't disappoint him this time. I just couldn't.

Desperately, I tried to remember what the doctor had said about it being in my head. I tried to relax, to take my mind somewhere that would force my inner muscles to go slack. If I just thought about something else, maybe, if I could stop being so nervous, everything would be all right.

He was pawing at me already, pushing my underwear aside and jamming his fingers inside me - or trying to. He let out a frustrated noise, and I tried not to wince.

"What's the matter this time?" he demanded.

"I don't know," I said, feeling my throat start to tighten. But no, I couldn't cry. Not now. That would just make it worse. "I guess it's just...I guess I'm just not used to it."

"Well, this isn't going to work," he said, his fingers still pressing insistently inwards. "You're my wife, we need to be able to be intimate this way. Otherwise..."

"I know, I know!" I started to squirm away from him, but he reached out and grabbed my hip.

"Shh, shh," he said. "You're just making it worse. Come on. Can't you just relax? Think about something that makes you smile."

Jacob
.

"There we go," said Mark, approvingly, and I felt his fingers slide into me, as easy as anything.

Oh no, no no no no. No. This is wrong. This is -
 

"That's my girl," Mark whispered. "I knew you could do it."

But the harder I tried to force myself not to think of Jacob, the more he filled my mind. Of course. It was always like that, wasn't it? But this was
not
okay. If Mark ever found out, he'd...he'd...

Mark would never find out.

He shoved into me with one quick, brutal thrust. I cried out in pain, biting my lip, feeling my muscles start to tense again, until I thought of Jacob's smile. Mark grunted on top of me, but in my mind, in a dark secret place no one would ever know, I looked up and saw Jacob's face, felt his body pressing against mine. Felt him inside me.

There was a sick pit of guilt in my stomach, but it couldn't stop the fantasy, the tendrils of pleasure that crept through my body at the idea of...

I had to stop. I
had
to. This was wrong, so wrong I'd never forgive myself.

But I couldn't. My body, my traitorous body, knew what it wanted. And I was just along for the ride.

Without warning, a wave of pleasure crashed over me, frightening in its intensity and leaving me breathless. I lay there limp, spent, until Mark rolled off of me and almost immediately fell asleep.

Dear Lord, please...please forgive me...

But as always, there was no answer.

***

"Matthew."

"Becca."

"Jordan."

"Danny."

I stood patiently, with my hands behind my back. A few times, I tried to catch Mark's eyes, but he wasn't looking at me.

"Lily," he said, pointing to the athletic girl with the infectious smile that Jacob was apparently courting. She ran over to Mark's side of the net, her ponytail bouncing behind her. There was a bitter taste in my mouth, but I told myself, very firmly, that it was not jealousy. I was a married woman. I had no right to be jealous.

I remembered last night's fantasy, and felt sick to my stomach.

"John," said Brandon, looking intensely bored with the whole process. I couldn't figure out why he'd been chosen as the second team captain, since he looked like he'd rather be putting a pencil through his eye.

"Kimberly."

"Luke."

"Curtis."

"Lindsey."

The group of unchosen players was dwindling. I realized I was clenching my fists at my sides, and I forced myself to relax. Obviously, he was just doing this to avoid the appearance of treating me differently because I was his wife. After all, he wouldn't be Mark if he didn't treat a pick up volleyball game like a national league playoff.

"Liz."

"Madeline."

And there it was. It had just happened. I was the last person waiting to be picked, and it was Mark's turn to call sides.

"Hey," he said, looking at Brandon. Still carefully avoiding my eyes. "Come over here a second, let me talk to you, okay? Captain's meeting."

He led Brandon several yards away, turning his back to us before he started speaking in hushed but urgent tones. I couldn't really catch the words, but something told me that I knew exactly what was being discussed.

My stomach felt like it was full of rocks. I didn't dare look at the two groups of people standing just a few feet away, already chosen by their teams, waiting to play.

"Hey, Marissa," came Jacob's voice, softly. "I don't really feel like playing. Why don't you take my place?"

I shook my head, but he started walking over anyway. "Seriously," he said. "Guys?" Brandon and Mark turned towards him. "I tripped over a tree root earlier and my ankle still hurts. I thought it'd be okay but I think it's better if I just sit this one out. Somebody needs to keep score anyway. Marissa's going to play for me, okay?"

"Sure," said Brandon, looking relieved. "Come on, Mari, let's play."

Mark was staring at the ground as he walked back to his side of the net. I was really more confused than angry, still trying to process what had happened. The field was crowded, but the moment the ball came within a few feet of me, I lunged my way over and spiked it as hard as I could, right in Mark's direction.

He dodged at the last second, flailing out of the way in the most undignified manner possible. I couldn't suppress the hysterical laugh that bubbled up in my chest, as I heard Jacob yell
Woooo!
from his spot on the sidelines. Someone high-fived me. Mark picked up the ball, forcing a smile before he served.

I knew there was going to be a Discussion later, but right now, I didn't care.

During the game, I was single-minded. My eyes saw nothing but the ball and my body was ready to jump at the slightest sign it would come near me. We won by three points, and it wasn't until the game was over that I first wondered what was running through the heads of everyone who hadn't wanted me on their team, even if they weren't as blatant about it as Mark.

As we scattered, Mark made no effort to join up with me, but Brandon did.

"I'm really sorry about that," he said, keeping his voice low and glancing over his shoulder like he thought Mark might be listening. "I didn't pick you because I figured he would."

"Yeah," I said. "I figured too."

"Well, you were great," he said. "So don't worry about it."

I had to smile. Brandon was so rarely sincere, which made me appreciate his small acknowledgement all the more.

Jacob was watching me from his seat by the water. I saw him get up and start walking, but I wasn't sure if he was trying to follow me until he actually caught up with me, just as the sand was giving way to scattered grass.

"That was fantastic," he said. "I'm glad you got in there and saved me from embarrassing myself."

"Yeah, I don't know," I replied, squinting into the sunset. I wasn't sure where Mark had gone. "I haven't played since I was a kid."

"Well, you've got some killer hand-eye coordination."
 

"Who knew?" I smirked.

"Mark sure didn't." He seemed to regret that the moment he said it. "I'm sorry, Mari. I shouldn't have..."

"No, it's okay," I assured him. "I'm sure he just didn't want me on his team because it would look weird."

"Oh, of course," said Jacob, nodding vigorously. "I just thought maybe...I mean, the whole thing went down kind of awkwardly. He could have...I don't know. I thought he could have handled it better."

I shrugged. "Sometimes he just gets wrapped up in things."

"Well, anyway." Jacob patted me on the shoulder. "You sure showed them."

"Yeah, I sure did."

Jacob went off in the direction of the cabins, and I sat out on the swing sets for a while, tracing patterns in the dirt with the toe of my sneaker. I had a lot of sand in them, but for some reason I didn't feel like shaking it out just yet.

I heard Mark coming long before he grabbed the swing next to me and sat down, but I didn't look up until he spoke.

"You were pretty aggressive out there," he said.

I was silent. Stony-faced, I imagined.

"Marissa, you can't expect anyone to know that you're good at something unless you tell them." He was talking to me like I was a particularly stupid child, even more so than usual. I was nearly biting through my lip to keep from shrieking at him.

"You could have given me a chance," I said, quietly. My voice, by some miracle, was steady.

His hands were folded in his lap, so tightly that his knuckles were white. "How do you think it would look if my team lost?"
 

I didn't know if this was a question I was really meant to answer or not. "No one cares," I said. "Nobody cares but you."

"They might not care," he said, his eyes flashing. "But they notice."

"Oh my gosh." I wanted to use much harsher words against him, but I couldn't quite bring myself to spit them out. "I don't even know what to say you to. I'm your
wife
."

"That's right," he said. "I don't even know why you were out there. There are so many opportunities for you to minister to the girls, and you're wasting your time on a volleyball game?"

"But it's not a waste of time when you do it."

"I'm trying to reach these young men," he said. "I have to be one of them. They have to respect me, and that includes respecting me as an athlete."

"Well, I'm sorry I ruined that for you." I stood abruptly, leaving the swing jerking wildly back and forth in my wake.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jacob

Something had changed with Marissa.
 

Ever since camp, she was acting differently towards me. I figured Mark must have gotten into her head, or - for a less paranoid version - she was just sick of me. I thought I'd done a pretty good job of handling the obviously awkward volleyball situation, but maybe she didn't agree. In any case, she was now going out of her way to pretend I didn't exist. It went beyond simply ignoring me; she was going out of her way to give me such a wide berth that I started to wonder if I'd done something horribly wrong.

When her father approached me, with his hand outstretched, I almost forgot why he'd be talking to me at all.

"Marissa tells me you're interested in opening a bike shop," he said.

"Oh," I said. "Yes. That's - well, yes."

"Sorry," he said, with a slight smile. "I don't mean to blindside you. But I'd love for you to come in and apply for a loan. I'm not exactly the final authority, so I can't promise much, but I'd love to get you started on the right track, if you're interested."

"I am," I said. "I'm very interested." And I was. The idea of having my own business still made a little thrill of excitement run through my chest, even as my mind raced with practical concerns and hesitations.

"How about Wednesday at nine o'clock? I've got an opening in my schedule."

"Absolutely," I said. "Thank you, sir."

We shook on it.

"I'm looking forward to seeing what you have planned," he said.

"Please tell your daughter 'thank you' for recommending me," I said. "I can't seem to catch her between conversations this week."

He chuckled. "I hate to say, you probably see her more often than I do these days."

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I chuckled along with him, and wished him well as he headed out the door with his wife.

Marissa and Mark left shortly afterwards, and the whole crowd was seriously dwindling. I started to wonder why on earth my parents weren't tapping their feet by the exit. But looking around, neither one of them was in sight.

A peal of laughter made me turn my head, and I had to blink a few times before I could process what I was seeing. Sara was...talking? Surrounded by other girls her age?

Well, maybe sometimes miracles did happen.

"Do you see that?" Mom murmured, sidling up next to me. I had no idea where she'd appeared from. "I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden, Miss Sara is in the popular clique."

"Well," I said, still staring at the scene in disbelief. "That's...that's something else."

"I don't get it either," she said. "But hey. I'm just happy to see my little girl coming out of her shell."

I was too. But something didn't sit right with me, as I watched the group of them. I was probably still in a bad mood because of Marissa.

Yeah, that had to be it.

***

I walked into the bank, with my heart in my throat. Really, it didn't make any sense to be so nervous. But this felt incredibly important. I couldn't stop running over it in my head, planning what I'd say in response to every possible question. I had my business plan tucked into a folder under my arm. I'd spent a good deal of time researching leases and business properties with retail space in the area, so I had a good idea of what I needed to get started.