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A Couple of Years of Gardening (Chapter 6) (standard:romance, 3771 words) [6/10] show all parts | |||
Author: kmr412002 | Added: Feb 18 2007 | Views/Reads: 2458/1723 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
The story of a the courtship and marriage of a detective as told by his wife. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story “All you need to know is this,” he said. He takes my hand and places it on his heart. “This belongs to you.” I wake up early to catch the next plane out. When I got into the shower, I thought about the first night I ever spent with Kit. When I stepped into his shower, I found find five different shampoos staring at me, all loudly attesting to the fact that I was not the only one. I halfway hope I find the same thing, but I find one lone bottle. When I get out of the bathroom, I find him watching me. I smile shyly as he tugs on the hem of my towel. I say, “I've got to get back.” “I'll call you tonight.” “Yea, okay,” I say as I rush around putting my clothes back on, refusing to meet his eyes. I am thinking what a mistake this is and how this lapse in judgment was going to ruin this friendship. “Nina?” He stands up and grabs my arm. “Nina?” I stop and look at his hand. “Jack, it's okay. You've been here before. I've been here before. We're grownups.” “Yea, but we both know this is different.” “How can you be so sure?” He pats a place beside him on the bed, “Let's have this conversation over here.” I smile and sit beside him. He says, “This is different because for the first time in a long time, I'm not thinking about work. This is different because all I can think about is when I'll see you again. This is different because it's kind of hard to see you rushing around like you made some kind of goddamn mistake. “Jack, I don't think I made a mistake.” He smiles, “Actually, you did. Your blouse -- I don't think you buttoned it right.” I unbutton it and he reaches over to rebutton it. I look at his face concentrating so intently as if this were a complex task. He talks, while he works. “Nina, you're acting like you have no business here. Last night meant a lot to me. I had hoped you felt the same. When he is done, he smiles at me and places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. I take his hand and say, “It did mean a lot to me. Jack, I'm not thinking about work either. I thinking about certain assumptions I've always had about how I should live my life. When I was twelve, I remember lying in bed at night for so many nights, hearing my parents yell and fight and curse each other's existence. Do you know what I did?” He shakes his head. “I prayed to God to keep them together. When they got their divorce, I thought there was no God and I was on my own. It was either that or end up like my parents. All my life, I have pretty much believed those were my choices. It's safer that way, you know. There's no risk of getting hurt or of hurting someone else.” Jack takes my hands and kisses them. He said, “It is safer, isn't it? Who wants to go around feeling that wide open all the time? Certainly not me, not you.” He smiles a little and stares into my eyes and I knew it would be impossible for me to go back. I say, “But we're not going to do the safer thing, Jack. Are we?” He shakes his head and whispers, “Then stay with me just little a longer.” He pulls me down toward him kissing me as he unbuttons my blouse. I look in the mirror studying my stomach, which shows every day of my nearly eight months of my pregnancy. I have on one of Jack's shirts, but it might as well be one of those maternity tents, for all the good it does in softening the curves of my expanding size. I return back to my side of the closet looking for something that will make me look less maternal. Normally, I don't have a problem with my appearance, but Atlanta has been calling. They want me to take over a floundering project that was initially my baby; before I found out I was going to having a real one. I just talked to my doctor who thought it would present no problem, but I know convincing Jack will be the problem, and that's why I need to look less pregnant, less vulnerable. I give up and decide to make his favorite meal; instead, a nice spinach lasagna with a glass of red wine. While he is eating, I bring it up. He doesn't even stop chewing to consider it. “No way.” I hate the finality of that response, and he knows it. He gives me a sideways glance waiting for me to storm off, but I am determined not to let it get to me. I pull up my chair closer. “Jack, I'm quitting when the baby is born. It would give me an opportunity to tie up loose ends.” He puts down his fork and looks at me. He says, “Honey, I don't see why you can't do it from here. Use the computer to do what you need to do. Isn't that we got that line put in?” “Because the job involves meeting with several people at different times. It's just too complicated to handle from here. Also, it will allow to me to make my good byes to those people. I'd like to leave on good terms.” “Yea, and I'd like to have a healthy child.” I know what he's talking about, and I take his hand. “Sweetheart, that's not going to happen again. I talked to the doctor and she said it was fine.” “Yea, Baby? Can you guarantee it? Can she guarantee that you'll be safe and that our baby will be safe?” Of course, I can't and he knows it. He throws his plate in the sink and stalks out to the backyard. I'm glad he can't see the difficulty I have in getting out of my chair as I follow him. I talk to his back, “You know before I got pregnant, our work was a very big part of our lives. Jack, after the baby is born, you will still have that, but I won't. I'm not complaining, because you know I love you and this baby more than anything else in the world, but after he is born, I will have to say goodbye to that part of my life for a while.” His shoulders are not as stiff as they were a moment ago. I put my arms around him as well as I am able to, “Please let me do this. Our anniversary is coming up. Hey, Honey, look at it as a great gift.” He laughs softly. “I forgot how you can play hardball when you really want something, Baby. Maybe I can take off and go with you.” I scowl, “Jack, you know that's not the point. I need to know I can do this. But I also need to know this is okay with you.” When he turns around, I can see by his eyes that he understands. He runs his hands over his face and then gently embraces me. He speaks in a muffled voice into my hair. “All right, all right. Call me the minute your plane lands. Call me when you get to your hotel room. Call me when --. He stops talking when I give him a look. I wake up in the middle of the night and I know he is awake. I stare silently out into the dark at him. He has his hand on my stomach and my hand on his heart. His uncharacteristic vulnerability breaks my heart, and I put my head on his shoulder, keeping my breathing even, because I don't want him to know I'm a little worried, too. I know at work he has a reputation as a hardass. I wonder what they would think now. The day that I leave for Atlanta, we go over my itinerary. When we get to the part about what time he will pick me up when I get back, I wince. I wonder if I will ever get past associating being picked up at the airport with the shooting, When I get on the plane after that first night, I mentally rehearse seeing him the next time, saying as casually as I can stand, “Hey, what were we thinking?” But as I found my seat, any thoughts like that evaporate as I catch sight of him in the terminal staring out at the plane. I pressed my forehead against the plane window remembering what it felt like to be in love and seventeen. I come home late that night. Jack leaves a message saying he just got off and wants to hear my voice. When I call, he says to wait a second, and over the phone, I hear the music I heard that night. “It's pretty quiet around here. When you will be back? “I have a shoot in three weeks.” “I guess I wasn't clear. When will you be back for us?” When he says that I feel such a twinge of longing that I blurt out, “Next week.” I expect to throw him off. Without missing a beat, he says, “Call me when your flight comes in.” The next Friday, he is there to meet my plane. He has flowers with him, and the first thought that occurs to me is that it is clear that he isn't someone who did flowers. He keeps looking at them like he doesn't know how they got there. When he gives them to me, he says, “Kate wanted me to let you know she doesn't have any room at her place.” He put the flowers in one hand and a key in the other.” I stare at it in the palm of my hand and shake my head. “I don't know what to say.” “Say we're taking this a weekend at a time.” I smile up at him as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. Most of our time together is in bed. It wasn't just because we are hot for each other, which we were. It's because there are weekends when I only see him when he comes home to get some rest just to leave in a few hours. He apologizes and says this is not the type of life he wants us to have together. Secretly, I really don't mind having him just for these times. The weekends that we are able to spend any substantial time together also seem to end with that looming question of how long this can go on. In Atlanta, it was easy to fool myself, and say this was just another of those relationships where things went great until it left the bedroom, which wasn't unusual for me. But sometimes, when I was back in New York watching him sleep, I knew Jack was right. This was something different. We find we are able to get one of those rare weekends off together. On my way to the loft, I go to a deli and pick up a few things. As I approach the building, a car pulls up in front of the loft. Jack steps out and takes the grocery bag kissing me. “My car is in the shop. Barrett gave me a ride.” I bend down and wave at Barrett through the passenger's side. “Hey, Nina,” he says in a sing song kind of way. “Maybe you can get keep this funny guy off the streets for a few days.” “I hope so,” I say. Jack waves him off and then quite unexpectedly he takes my hand and kisses the top of it. He has never been one for public displays of affection and sees the puzzled look on my face, “I missed you.” I say, “I missed you, too. I thought the last thing anyone would call you is funny guy. What's that about?” He shrugs as he looks in the grocery bag and sniffs. “Rosemary chicken. I got a great bottle of wine. A little dinner, a little wine, then whatever.” He winks at me as I take his arm saying, “Yea, whatever.” Just before the whatever, his sister calls. They talk for a few minutes while I clean dinner dishes. He walks into the kitchen and hands me the phone. “Emily wants to say hello.” Emily tells me that Gracie has the flu. She was not feeling well when Jack visited two day ago. “I hope he doesn't catch anything. He works too hard, Nina. Could you please watch out for him?” I am watching him as he undoes the belt on my jeans and unbuttons my shirt. After I hang up, he leads me to the bedroom. He takes off his shirt and sits on the bed looking up at me. “I'm sorry about Emily. She has a tendency to mother hen people.” “Jack, she loves you, like I do, except I'm a little more perverse about it.” He cocks his head to one side, and says, “You love me?” “Yea, you don't know that by now, funny guy?” I laugh as I tunnel my way through a sea of covers. I hold them up to my chin as I watch him undress. When he gets in bed beside me, he says, “A couple of weeks ago, I heard Barrett asking Kate for your phone number. At first I was pissed off, and then I thought I really had no reason to be. He doesn't know about us.” “So what did Kate do?” “She looked at me for a second and then gave her my number,” I laugh as he reaches across to me to press a button on his answering machine. Barrett's nasal voice comes sounding slightly irritated. “Goddamn, Jack, if something was going on with you two, why didn't you just tell me. See ya.” “Oh, that's the reason for the funny guy remark.” “I guess you could look at it like that. Nina. I guess I should have spoken up and said . .” He shrugs. “And said what?” He kisses my neck and says, “That I love how you smell, that I love how your hair curls around your face, that I love the look you give me when I get home on Fridays. All of this is mine, and sometimes – you must think I'm crazy – I don't want to share any of this.” I say, “It is kind of overwhelming sometimes. It's kind of hard to remember that we said we were going to take this slow. I think we're doing the best we can with the time we have. Look, how often were you home last week?” I prop my head up on my elbow and say, “I would think you would be happy, Jack. There's no pressure for you to be here, you don't have to be committed to anything but your work.” “You could be talking about yourself, Baby. Nina, you don't know by now how much I want this to work for us?” “I do too, Jack,” I say in a small voice because I'm a little frightened now. I wonder, can he see how much I love him, how I miss him when I'm in Atlanta. I don't want anyone to know me like he is beginning to. “Then why--?” he stops because he is looking in my eyes. “It's okay, Baby.” He pulls me close and he does what he has always done for me, made me feel safe. I guess it's our coming out date. There's some official police function he needs to go to and he tells me the night before I'm to fly in to bring a dress. I tease, “Is this like a big date? Will there be romance, dancing, hugging, and --” He laughs says, “Maybe this is not such a good idea.” Of course, he's late. Before I get on the plane, he calls to tell me to take a cab to the apartment and get dressed and he'll meet me there. Then while I'm at the apartment, he calls to tell me to meet him at the hotel where the banquet will be held. I say, “Maybe this is a sign, Jack.” “Nah, Baby, we're going to live dangerously and just ignore the signs.” “Maybe we've been doing that all along.” He laughs, “And look how great it's turned out for us. I'll meet you in front of the hotel.” I've been standing out on the street for about thirty minutes. Kate and David appear and she tries to get me to come in with them. I shake my head, and say “I'll probably go home.” “Nina, no, you're all dressed up.” I hear my name and that's when I see him striding toward me trying to knot his tie. Jack is panting, “I'm sorry I'm late. I'm sorry --.” I help him finish his tie when he whispers, “You look great. You make it worth all it took to get here. I'm sorry I was late. I don't want you to ever think you're not important; that our time together is not important enough.” I say, “I know that.” I take his arm as we go upstairs into the banquet hall. Just as we are about to enter, he pulls me aside and says, “Do you, Baby?” He caresses my cheek and kisses me and says, “I just want to make sure.” After the banquet, we decide to walk the ten blocks home. He takes my hand and is humming quietly to himself. He is smiling to himself and I ask what he is thinking. He says, “When I get to be an old man, and the pretty girls ask me what was the happiest moment of your life, I'll tell them about the time, I found this beautiful woman in a black dress standing on a street corner waiting for me. And what really got to me was I could tell by looking in her eyes that she had been waiting for me all her life.” Tweet
This is part 6 of a total of 10 parts. | ||
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