Aba loosened the belt on her bathrobe with one hand as she approached the bedroom doorway. Her right hand held a glass of cabernet sauvignon. Jim knew it was cabernet because that was all she drank.
“Sorry to make you wait, hon.”
Her words came out slow and soft, but clearly articulated.
She’s not drunk, Jim thought. Not yet.
He sat on the bed, muscles sore and twitchy from over stimulation, his clothes wet and cold. He looked at her but not at her face. The skin on his hands burned with the onset of fresh calluses, he felt the urge to rub them together but he sat still. He waited for what might come next.
“I was watching you from my window while I made the calls. You did good out there. It looks good.”
A slight pause. He expected her to ask questions, to double-check his work. Was everything put away…? Did you make sure…?
Instead, she continued.
“Jenny sounded happy. Just like I predicted.” A snort of air through her nose. It sounded stuffy, as though she had been crying but he knew she hadn’t been.
“His mom and dad, they…well they didn’t seem surprised. They knew it wasn’t the first time. Grandma sounded relieved. She wants us to visit soon.”
The low rumble of thunder vibrated the house. Jim didn’t recall their being a lightning flash. The rain had been coming down steady for hours now.
“I really don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
She made a step forward, crossing the threshold from the brightly lit hallway into the bedroom.
“Anything at all.”
He found he could look at her easier now that her face was in the shadows. Her left hand held onto the robe’s belt while her right swirled the cabernet around and around in its goblet.
Jim recognized this habit of hers; she wasn’t concerned about the quality of the wine. She was thinking. Eventually, after a few more glasses, the habit would break.
“Aren’t you cold, baby? You should get out of those wet clothes. We’ll need to wash them.” She looked down at her wine, legs forming on the side of her glass, and took a small sip.
“You know what,” she spoke up, as if the idea had just occurred to her. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow. We’ve earned it now, haven’t we? We’ll get all new clothes. A whole new wardrobe, the both of us.”
She came closer, bending to set set her wine glass on the nightstand and sat down next to him. She was a small woman, shorter than Jim for almost a year now, and he barely felt the bed sink under her weight.
“Jim, baby, it’s all right. You can look at my face. It dosent’ hurt that bad, I promise.” She reached out and put her hand on his, squeezing gently. He started to look up but quickly turned his head away.
“You’re awfully strong, you know. I can’t say it dosen’t hurt, but I’ll be ok. We had to do it, you know. You did good.”
She squeezed again and now he did look up into her face. Her eye had not only started to turn purple, but it was now swollen, too. Her nose looked normal in the dark of the bedroom but he knew it would be fully bruised tomorrow. He could see the darkness of what he knew to be dried blood crusted around her nostrils. But her mouth was the worst. Looking at those lips caused him a tinge of nausea that made his heart rate speed up. Puffy and bruised with a cut on the corner of her mouth where her teeth had cut into them, he wanted to look away again but she wouldn’t let him. She had reached out and took hold of his chin, turning his face toward hers.
“Jim. I want you to listen to me, baby. You’re the man of the house, now. I need you. I need you strong. Can you do that for me?”
Lightning flashed outside and this time he did see it. The spark of electricity flashed in her eyes as he nodded, her smooth hand sliding on his face.
He said that he would.
Outside the rain came down heavy sheets, softening the mound of dirt in the backyard and driving it back into the earth. Where it belonged. Jim had dug deep, the mound was large but it wouldn’t take long. She said they could buy grass seed tomorrow, and maybe a little tree to plant there. They talked for a while about the past. She went to refill her wine and brought the bottle up for them to share. They talked about the future. She sat on the bed, swirling her wine around and around in hypnotic circles. Everything was going to be better now. They were safe. They were free.
Daniel LeSaint is a writer living in Cincinnati, Ohio. He reads a lot and likes cats.