Authors: Spikes J. D.
I lowered my hand. Instead of one condom, he pulled out two. He handed one to me and tucked one into his waistband with, “Great minds think alike, I guess.”
I took the package. We stared at each other and I knew he had seen it before I had entered the room tonight.
“I wasn’t snooping,” he explained. “Just happened to pick the same place to stash.” He hooked his hand behind my head and pulled me to him. “Don’t be embarrassed. That was smart.”
He stood much too close and felt just too right and kissed my hair near my ear, making my knees turn to water. The room grew incredibly warm. I backed away from his embrace.
“You aren’t mad, are you, Daph?” he asked as he handed me the plan.
“No, just hot.”
He shut the drawer on his fingers. I squeezed my eyes shut then peeked out. “Want me to kiss them better?”
Zach lunged at me. With a squeal, I raced from the room and down the stairs, Zach in close pursuit. I let him catch me at the front door and kiss me, then followed him out onto the porch.
The wind whipped rain at him as he made his way to the car. He tossed the condom into the glove compartment and stuffed the book Mrs. Rice had given us under his shirt. Covering it with his arms, he dashed back to the porch.
“You’re wet again,” I observed as he passed me in the doorway.
He stopped in the main hall and stepped back in my direction. “Want to dry me off?”
Zach and a towel again. Dusty rose was my color of choice this time, but I backed him against the hall wall and started to lift his shirt. When I got hold of the book, I yanked it out and let his shirt fall back to his waist.
He pouted until I laughed, then, hands to my shoulders, steered me toward the front room. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
It was three o’clock in the morning when Eddie and Jay rolled in.
Hearing Rowdy snuffle, I lifted my head from the pillow, swooping my hair back from my face as I tried to focus in the dark.
Embers glowed orange-red on the grate, residual of the fire Zach and I had built in the fireplace when the electricity gave out. The generator had kicked in quickly enough, but we kept the fire going anyway to keep the lights off and give the bulk of the resource to the appliances and house systems.
In case you didn’t know it, fires are very romantic.
They are not advisable when you’ve had a previous encounter, though. Kissing by firelight is not recommended unless you possess a steely resolve. Hands tend to roam.
I actually touched him . . . you know . . . there.
It was kind of accidental, but I had to pursue it. What a rush to discover I had the power to scramble Zach’s senses the way he scrambles mine. When he recovered from the shock, he touched me back and I immediately rethought my foolishness—and my decision to abstain.
I never voiced this, though. I knew our original choice was a good one. Besides, my breath left me in a broken
whoosh
, making it impossible to talk.
Zach’s voice filled my ear in bits and pieces. “I don’t . . . feel . . . too trust . . . worthy . . . right now.”
Rowdy butt his head between us, another reminder that free rein was not an option.
We both seized the opportunity to withdraw before it went any further. We backed off and grabbed for our water bottles on the coffee table.
Personally, I thought we should just dump it over our heads, dowsing ourselves. Zach thought the pluses weren’t worth the minus of cleaning up and explaining the water stains to Aunt Dwill.
Unable to go back to comparing the cemetery plans due to the lack of light, and determined to stick to our decision, we eventually succumbed to sleep. I stretched out on the sofa with its throw pillows beneath my head. Zach stretched out on the rug beside me on the floor pillows from the family room.
I made sure the afghan was secure behind my back before I draped it over the side of the sofa to cover Zach. I dropped my arm over the side, too, and rested my hand on his chest. He clasped my hand over his heart and huffed a breath as he settled down to sleep.
Now, three hours later, Rowdy’s snuffle woke me from sleep. The dog rose, reluctant to leave Zach’s side. I hadn’t heard a car drive up but did hear the key in the door.
The flick of the hallway switch preceded their voices. Their shadows loomed in the doorway, their attention brought to the room by Rowdy’s presence.
“They must be in there. Look at the fireplace. Daphne wouldn’t leave it unattended.”
“And Zach wouldn’t leave her.”
They mumbled to the dog, probably petting him and waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dark.
“Couch and floor.”
“Good.”
They moved up the hall, Rowdy in pursuit.
I resettled myself and re-draped my arm over the side of the sofa and onto Zach’s arm, careful not to wake him. He took my hand and kissed it then slid it under his shirt, against the skin of his chest. I pinched him. He muffled his laugh.
“’Night, Daphne.”
“’Night.”
We slept until eight the next morning. The sun fought with the clouds, tossing shadow in and out of the room. Zach woke about the same time I did and we sat up and stretched the kinks from our necks and shoulders. I patted the cushion so Zach would come up off the floor. He slid onto the sofa and sent my attention across the hall with a crook of his head.
Mr. Philbrook slept soundly on the couch in the family room across the hall.
“They got in way late,” I whispered.
Zach nodded. “Rowdy’s with him. See his feet? Let’s try to get to the kitchen without him waking my dad.”
He stood and I followed. Rowdy shifted his weight, rolling so that his visible feet were poking the air. It seemed the dog had no interest in us. We slipped out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.
“Stove works,” I said, turning the front burner on and off. “How about a big breakfast? I can make eggs and bacon and pancakes.”
“Sounds great. What should I do?”
“Set the table, Zach, then you can help me cook.”
We had just put those refrigerator croissants into the oven and sat at the table with our juice glasses when Aunt came in, looking like crap. She poured two cups of coffee and fixed them. “Smells great, guys. I’ll go wake Jay.”
She took the two cups of coffee with her. Zach sipped his juice, watching her go. I wondered how he felt about her being so familiar with his dad that she thought nothing of waking him while in her pajamas, yet had called their relationship quits.
“You know she loves you, Zach, right? Like you were her own. She said so.”
He switched his gaze to me with a wry smile. “That could be awkward for us, don’t you think?”
I lowered my eyes. I didn’t even want to think about the possible meaning behind his words, though my heart fluttered in response. “Not really.”
Could your uncle be your father-in-law, too? An aunt your mother-in-law?
Way too complicated and I was getting way too ahead of myself here. “I’ve got to check the rolls.”
I turned my back on him and crossed to the oven.
Jay and Eddie entered the kitchen. I decided to think of them in that way for today, to avoid thinking about the mess we’d have if they ever made it official.
Jay looked like crap, too.
“What the heck happened to you guys?” Zach asked as he scraped the scrambled eggs into a bowl and deposited it onto the table. The timer on the oven pinged and I pulled out the croissants and dumped them into the waiting basket.
Eddie got the bacon from the microwave as Jay refilled their coffee cups and poured milk into our glasses. “We almost got caught in a washout. Two cars ahead of us did. Took us over three hours to get them out of their vehicles,” Jay answered, and stifled a yawn. He dropped into his chair and, head to hand, closed his eyes.
Now Zach had told me how his dad was such a morning person, driving him insane with his insistence that the day should be greeted with the dawn. Eddie, on the other hand, got up early but only because she had to and she held a grudge against the dawn for the first few hours of her day. This was pretty amusing to see them in reverse.
Zach had noticed it, too, and we shared a smile.
I liked the coziness of our little family, everybody in PJs starting the day together. August loomed large and ugly and punctured a hole in my happiness.
“Why is Rowdy so filthy?”
Eddie’s question drew me back to the conversation.
“He tried to go swimming off the cliff last night.”
That snapped Jay to attention and Aunt placed one hand over his and the other over her heart. “What? What happened?”
Zach and I launched into a recounting of the night’s events, skipping our personal interludes, and the two adults exchanged several glances during the telling.
“Thank God you’re okay.” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. “I would have been frantic had I known.”
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Zach soothed. “The light never went out, so we had one thing in our favor.”
I frowned and Zach caught it. I sent a small shake of the head in his direction. He let it go. For now.
“The light would be the least of my worries if you and Daphne were in danger,” she replied sternly.
“We know,” I hastened to answer, and Zach nodded agreement.
Jay placed his fork by his plate and his words warmed me to my toes. “I’m proud of you two. You kept your heads. That’s always the most important thing.”
Once breakfast was done, I retrieved our clothes from the dryer, replacing it with Eddie’s and Jay’s clothes from the washer.
Zach returned to the kitchen as I did, dressed for the day. Thankfully, Eddie had changed then sent Jay to her room to rest until his clothes were ready. She went out with Rowdy, leaving Zach and I to plan our day in peace. I started to clean the breakfast dishes.
“Why the face? When I said the light hadn’t gone out?” Zach asked as soon as they had left the room. “The light didn’t go out.”
“Yes, it did. For me, anyway.”
“What happened?”
“I watched Vincent die.”
It hadn’t really registered at the time; I was too consumed by worry for Zach’s safety. I don’t think it registered for Dorothea, either, that night.
A frozen breeze suddenly rushed through me and my arms felt like lead. The juice glass dropped from my hand to shatter in the sink.
My knees buckled beneath me
.
In an instant he was by my side, helping me to a seat at the table. My hand, flattened against my heart, curled to a fist and began to beat my breast in an attempt to keep my heart from stopping altogether.
My brother-in-law had never done more than take my hand or press my cheek in greeting. Most often perfunctory, on occasion grudgingly. This night he looked upon me and I saw a difference in his eyes.
“You truly grieve my brother’s passing.”
Tears flowed unabated. “How could I not? He was—he is my life. My heart. My love.”
“You have not mourned.”
“I cannot. Were I to think on it, I would shatter. The men of the sea and their families depend on me, on my capacity to keep the lights burning and bring them safely home. I must not be derelict in my duties. I cannot be. Your brother understood.”
The pain, unbearable, suddenly ceased as new life flickered my awareness. Joy and sorrow colored my vision.
“Vincent and I are to have a child,” I whispered, tears drying. “I was to share the news with him the eve of his passing. No replacement for dear Sarah. That could never be. But a new start, a new life. Another chance.”
God, in his wisdom, had bestowed on me a brother-in-law on whom I could depend. We would help each other through this nightmare. The child would know the father well by his brother’s words and deeds.
“It will be all right, Dorothea. We will make it all right. The child will know his father. Will know his father’s people. If you wish it to be so.”
A sob escaped me and once that single burst found a way, others followed. He slid across the bench and gathered me into his arms.
“Hush,” he said, “hush, Dorothea,” but his tears mingled with mine and dripped down our arms as we clung to each other. We vented our sorrow until again the flutter of life took my attention, startlingly so.
I wiped my eyes and started to smile. He watched me, confused, until I took his hand to place it against my stomach. He tried to withdraw, but I coaxed him on and knew by his face he had felt it, too.
“Vincent lives.” I laughed through my tears. “He lives.”
His face faded to Zach.
I fell against him, tired. So tired.
“There was a second child.”
Zach was smart enough to get me out of the house before Eddie returned. He collected the book and the plan and me, and we headed toward the cemetery.
In case Jay awoke or Eddie returned, I forced myself to move as naturally as possible across the lawn and into the trees while Zach held me around the waist. Once out of sight of the house, Zach looped my arm around his neck and I leaned heavily into him while I tried to find leg strength.
“This has to end.” Zach fumed. “Look at you. They’re sucking the life from you, Daph. You can’t even tell them no.”
I rolled my eyes in his direction, but it was difficult to focus. “I did, Zach. Last night. I made her go away, so I could know you were safe. So I could help you.”
“And now they’re making you pay.”
We stopped. Zach lowered me to the ground, leaning me against a tree, then took my face in his hands. He pinned my eyes with his. “I still need you, Daph. Tell them to go. Tell them we won’t help them unless they leave you alone.”
“I can’t . . .” my voice faded off and Zach gripped my shoulder with one hand and tapped my face with the other.
“Daph! You can. I need you to read the plans. To figure it out.” He let me go. “If you don’t help me, Ro and Vincent will never be together.”
Zach stepped away. I slouched against the tree, trying to do what he asked, not knowing how. He folded his arms across his chest and a scowl marred his face. “Sarah will never see her father. I’ll make sure of it.”