Tides of the Heart (33 page)

He scowled a little. “Well … I guess not. What is it?”

“I was wondering,” Ginny said, her voice as low as she could possibly make it, “how long has it been since you’ve been with a woman?” She closed the door behind her.

He scratched his chin and smiled. “Excuse me?” he asked.

She reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, then ran them down the front of his chest, slipping her fingers inside the lapels of his robe, feeling the smooth, curly hairs on his skin. “I asked how long it has been since
you’ve been with a woman.” The touch of his flesh was warm on her fingers. The softness of his skin was surprising, as was the stir she felt somewhere inside.

“Ginny—” he began to protest.

She shushed him, then rose up on her toes and breathed into his ear. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” she lied, but was uncomfortably aware that it might not be as much of a lie as she needed to believe.

His hands moved to her waist. “I don’t think this is a good idea …”

“Don’t you want me?” she whispered.

“That’s not the point.”

Her hands slid down to his not-too-paunchy belly. Deftly, she untied the belt of his robe. The flannel fell open; she looked down and saw he wore boxers. Loose, easy-to-get-into boxers. Without hesitation, she slipped her hand inside, down to the warm spot that lay below. Slowly, she rubbed his flesh. Slowly, ever so slowly, she felt it come to life.

Ginny withdrew her hand and, without speaking, raised her dress over her head. She picked up his hands and placed them on her breasts. She was surprised, and pleased, when her nipples stiffened under his touch. If she couldn’t enjoy sex anymore, it was at least a good thing her partner wouldn’t know the difference.

She returned her hand to his crotch. “Take me to bed,” she commanded. “I need it even more than you.”

When the morning sun spilled into Jess’s room, she opened her eyes, surprised she had slept through the night. They’d had a lovely dinner; being with Lisa and Phillip was so enjoyable. Once or twice they made her feel old, for their youth and optimism for life was so untarnished, their eagerness to share and to learn and to do something productive with their lives was both admirable and enviable. Phillip and Lisa were definitely going to make their marks on the world.

She had listened to them and watched them, startled that this young woman and this young man had been born at the same time as Melanie—that they, like Melanie, were adults now, capable people, independent, intelligent human beings. It had made Jess sad that she did not know her own child, born at the same time as them—Melanie, with the sweet little daughter of her own.

Turning onto her side, she realized that maybe the reason she’d slept so well was because she had made a decision and she was going to stick with it. Sometime between the lamb chops with fresh mint and the caramelized pears drizzled with fudge sauce that Phillip had insisted Jess try, she knew what she had to do. And she was going to do it this
morning. She was going to drive over to Edgartown. She was going to confront Richard, one on one, just the two of them. He was no longer going to cheat her out of knowing her child.

They had screwed most of the night. When Ginny woke up she noticed Dick was gone, probably off making breakfast for the guests of the inn. She wondered if they wondered where the smile on his face had come from.

She had to pee. She hauled herself from the bed and rubbed her aching thighs.
Out of practice
, she told herself.
Out of practice and out of shape.

But Jesus, it had been good. She tipped back her head and laughed. Sixty-nine or a hundred and sixty-nine, a man was a man, and a man with a need could screw like the best of them. The hell with what the magazines said about age and impotence or the need for Viagra.

And best of all, she had
liked
it. She had liked all the things he did to her, and all the things she did to him. She had liked it, for chrissakes. Her libido had risen like the phoenix from the ashes, returned like the prodigal son, blasting her into orbit like the space shuttle on a hot, energy-driven mission.

Christ, it had been good. There had been no time to talk to Dick about Melanie, no time to pry information from him on what really had happened. There had been no time for her to think about Brad and about what she’d do once they left the island and she returned to the hideous realities of her life. There had not even been time to think about Jake. There had been no time because Ginny had been too busy feeling good, feeling alive. Finally, feeling alive.

She laughed again, shuddering the last throe of orgasm from her still-tingling body, and started to move toward the bathroom. That’s when her lower back went
ping.

She stopped. She froze. “Fuck,” she said, reaching
around and pressing her hand against her spine. “Fuck. Shit.”

She tried to take another step forward. Pain shot across her ass and down her leg. “Son of a bitch.” She looked toward the bathroom and knew she’d never make it. It must have been ten feet away. She glanced back to the bed. The three steps to the mattress looked like a mile and a fucking half.

Ginny stood stupidly in place, a Rubens nude chiseled in stone. “Help,” she cried softly. “Somebody help me.”

Karin was juggling a stack of fresh linen to make up the guest rooms. She walked past her father’s bedroom when she heard the small cry. She stopped in the hallway and listened. It sounded as if someone was calling for help. It sounded like a woman. And it sounded like it was coming from inside her father’s room.

She stepped close to the door and pressed her ear against it.

“Somebody fucking help me,” came the barely audible whimper.

Karin set down the linens and stared at the door. Who was in there? Who the hell was in her father’s room? No one had any right …

She reached for the doorknob and threw open the door. There, in the middle of the floor stood that woman—the fat one—totally naked.

“What are you doing in here?” she shouted.

“I was sleepwalking, for chrissakes, and now I can’t move.”

“Why are you dragging this out? Why don’t you come what you’ve come for and leave?”

“Because I can’t, you asshole. I can’t move. I’ve hurt my back.”

“So what do you want from me?”

“Help me. Put me back on the fucking bed.”

Karin took one step forward, then two. She glanced at her father’s bed. The sheets were torn from the bottom of the mattress; the blanket was hanging off the side. And there, on the floor, was a woman’s dress, rolled up in a ball and lying in a heap.

“You slept with my father,” she snarled.

The woman laughed. “And to think I thought you were stupid as well as a fruitcake.”

Karin marched over to her, leaned into Ginny’s face, and slapped it. Hard. “How dare you,” she screamed.

Ginny turned her head. “Look, Morticia, I’m in pain here and I really don’t feel like getting into a catfight with you. Just help me back to bed or leave me here and get your father. I’m sure he’d be glad to do it.”

Karin seethed. “You make me sick,” she snarled again. “This was supposed to be easy. I only wanted to do the right thing. But now, you all make me sick.” She turned on her bare heel and stomped from the room.

Ginny stayed standing for what seemed an eternity. Then slowly, she tried to move. With each inch, the pain assaulted her, searing every nerve from her waist down on the right side, stealing her breath, piercing her flesh.

“Fuck. Shit,” she repeated over and over, until, at last she reached the bed. She gingerly tried to bend one way. It did not work. She tried the other way. A little more movement, enough to reach the mattress. She took in a deep breath, squeezed her eyes closed, and dropped onto the bed.

“Fuck!”
she shrieked, as the pain shot through her again. Then she opened her eyes, stared at the ceiling, and felt her bladder let go all over the sheets.

He had thought about her all night. He had tossed and turned, trying to push Lisa from his mind, as he had been trying to do since they’d left the Red Cat, since Jess had
dropped him off back at the Tisbury Inn, since the car had driven away, carrying the only woman he had ever been this nuts about away in the backseat.

He had tried to sleep, then paced the room, then sat at the chair by the window and watched the darkened Main Street and the locked-up shops all night. All damn night. And all he could think of was how long it would be until they met this morning, until they went on their mission to find Melanie, to tell her who they were and why they were there.

Phillip knew he had lost focus. He wasn’t even sure if it was the right thing to do, if they should interfere with Jess’s life without her knowledge. He knew he’d lost focus, but he didn’t care. It was as if Lisa Andrews had gotten under his skin like the needle of an addict. And like an addict, he needed her there, no matter how much it would hurt when the high wore off, no matter how painful the withdrawal would be.

He looked at the clock and decided he might as well run this morning. It might return some energy to his body and some sense to his brain. But first, there was something else he had to do.

Phillip groaned. He had to call the office and let them know he wouldn’t be back for another day … or two. He hoped Joseph would not be there. He wanted to hang on to this high as long as he could. And that might be hard to do if he had to explain to his big brother what the hell he was doing on Martha’s Vineyard.

Unfortunately Joseph picked up the line. “Nicole is frantic over you,” he said.

“Nicole? Frantic? I doubt it. She seemed perfectly happy to make alternate plans.”

“Why are you doing this, Phillip?”

It was obvious from his tone that Nicole must have told him about Jess, and why he was here.

“Jess is a nice woman, Joseph. I know you can’t understand this, but I feel as if I owe her.”

“Please. Don’t start that again.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“Have you called Nicole?”

“No.”

“Don’t be a fool, Phillip. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Not really
, he wanted to say, but didn’t want to argue with his brother.

“Besides,” Joseph added, “her father is a very important man.”

“I haven’t been dating her father.”

Joseph sighed. “Well, I guess you’re going to do what you feel you have to. In the meantime, get it done quickly. I’ve got to go now. I’m playing racquetball with Ed Smith.”

Racquetball.
After he hung up, it occurred to Phillip that if he made up with Nicole and married her, he’d be playing racquetball for the rest of his life.

Karin could barely breathe. She leaned against the door of the linen room, her eyes wide, her breath shallow and quick. She could not believe that
that woman
had slept with her father. That woman who pretended to be Jess’s friend, but who was about as much like Jess Randall as most Vineyarders were to Americans.

She sucked in another small breath and held the pile of sheets close against her chest.

That woman had slept with her father.

That woman who was only here because Karin had started it all, and was now probably trying to get to Karin’s father to learn the truth about Mellie.…

She bit her lower lip and forced back the tears.

She wished they would all just go away.

Ginny and Lisa had not yet come down for breakfast.
Good
, Jess thought, sipping her coffee and glancing at the
clock. She would have plenty of time to escape to Edgartown before having to explain to anyone where she was going.

She placed her napkin on the table and rose, excusing herself to the other guests. As she crossed the dining room, Dick Bradley entered carrying another pot.

“Fresh coffee,” he announced to Jess with a wide, beaming smile.

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I think I’ll go for a drive this morning. Get some salt air in my blood.”

He nodded, the smile not leaving. “Be sure to go out to Gay Head. The cliffs are magnificent.…”

Jess slipped from the room, not caring to listen to a travelogue of the island. She had no intention of going to Gay Head. She was going to Edgartown.

It was another fucking hour before Dick returned to the bedroom to find Ginny sprawled on the mattress in her own pee, tears streaming down the sides of her face and running into her ears.

“What the hell?” he asked, the smile on his face turning to a frown.

“My back,” she murmured, the pain so intense now she could barely hear her own voice. “I threw my back out. And I pissed the bed.”

“Oh, my God,” he said, moving to the bed and crouching beside her. “Don’t worry, Ginny,” he said, awkwardly wiping her tears, looking somewhat shy about seeing her in the daylight, naked as she was, and in his bed. “I think I can get you some painkillers. Maybe we can figure out how to get you turned somehow so I can give you clean sheets.… Oh, my God, did I do this to you?”

“No,” she said, the pain easing a little as she smiled. “I believe I did it to myself. Sex at my age. Who did I think I was?”