October 16 (Sunday morning)
Beth slept like a baby... for the first time in fourteen nights.
But, as though it were a work day, she woke at 6:50 a.m. After exiting the bathroom, she checked whether Shane had remained. Yes, he was squeezed into the couch, which was at least a foot too short. Beth adjusted the blanket over his thick shoulders and watched him breathe. It felt right having him near.
Beth yawned hugely and trudged back to her bed, again leaving the door slightly ajar.
Only moments after her head hit the pillow, she was back asleep.
****
When Shane woke at 7:35, it took a few seconds to get his bearings. He was fully dressed, except for his boots, and he needed the bathroom.
As he washed his hands at the lavatory, he searched the mirror for clues. They’d been on the couch, where they discussed the February twenty-ninth diary entry. He’d given Bethany the porcelain Phoenix and she got all mushy. Then she’d invited him to stay over, but on the couch. She started a chick flick. About the time Shane figured out the movie had nearly nothing to do with sleeping, he fell asleep.
Shane paused just outside Bethany’s bedroom, adjacent to the bath. Her door was open a crack and he pushed it sufficiently that he could see her sleeping form. In addition to the tiny nightlight near her bed, morning sunlight peeked around the perimeters of two windows. Shane could make out the swell of her hips under the covers and realized how much he missed touching Bethany. Touching every part of her.
He had no idea why she’d asked him to stay when she didn’t intend to sleep with him. Bethany had changed. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Bethany seemed to have grown up a bit. Not that she was a child before. She was already a year from graduating college when they’d started dating. But now she seemed to have greater resolve, keener instincts, and more guts. Perhaps that came from the several recent years of coping on her own or maybe it was the awful experience providing such intensive care for her dying brother.
Bethany seemed to want more of Shane, but he couldn’t figure out how much more, or when. So far, he’d misread a lot of clues. Consequently, he was tip-toeing a lot, quite unlike the old Shane. Yeah, he’d changed a good bit also. But whatever happened, he wanted to get it right this time. Don’t screw it up again. Even though he truly had no shred of insight into what it would take, Shane wanted to please Bethany. Tricky business. He wanted her back in his life, or to be back in her life again. Or perhaps it was something completely different: their lives to be together, with a fresh context?
But how could Shane please her when he didn’t know what Bethany wanted? He assumed she wanted to be together again, but was afraid to ask outright because there was a looming danger of saying something wrong. What had happened to their ability to read each other? It never used to require so many words, and all the correct phrasing, just to communicate. He used to know what she needed, what she wanted... what he wanted.
Now he was clueless about her needs and wants... even confused about his own. Chiefly, he wished it could be comfortable again. Simpler. All this complexity! All the conversation. Why couldn’t things still be solved by a roll in the hay?
Well, whatever else was going on, Shane was hungry. He searched the fridge and cabinets for something he could make. He found coffee and got that dripping. Then he pulled out a carton of eggs. Only four remained. That was enough for him, but what would Bethany eat? Naw... he could share.
He had two slightly stiff bread slices ready to drop into the toaster when Bethany trudged into the kitchen and smiled.
“When I smelled breakfast, I thought it was just a lovely dream.” She was still in her cotton nightgown.
“Maybe not so lovely if I burn these eggs. Not used to a gas range.” With one eye on Bethany’s unfettered bosom, he kept stirring with a wooden spoon and nodded towards the coffee maker. “Java’s ready.”
“You still make it double strength?”
Shane shrugged. That was regular potency; everybody else made it half strength.
She trailed her fingertips across his back as she moved behind him to reach the cabinet with cups. Then she poured a full portion. “You know, the way to a girl’s heart is through her kitchen.” Bethany giggled and took a sip of the coffee. “Yikes.” She dosed it with three packets of artificial sweetener.
“Never heard that kitchen line. But if this is what it takes, I can handle K.P.” Actually, seeing her in that nightgown—as utilitarian as it was—he was thinking about other routes to her heart.
Beth managed the toast while Shane finished the eggs. He spent a moment picking out the burned pieces. Gas range.
****
Beth was a natural worrier. Despite too-strong coffee, partly burned eggs, and slightly stale toast, their meal could have been intimate if Beth had not been worrying about what might follow breakfast. What about tonight? Tomorrow? Next week? She couldn’t discern where this was going and realized she needed to know her destinations from now on... at least some of them. “Hop on and ride” wasn’t good enough anymore. Not at age twenty-eight, not with ailing parents. She wanted a roadmap with stops marked along the way, for things like marriage. And, yeah, children. A few certainties would be nice, some milestones she could actually expect to reach. A degree of predictability...
Neither of them had mentioned how things might be after Ricks was found, when the threat was over... after the overnighter’s mysteries were solved. All this time, Beth had figured Shane would swing his muscular leg over the new bike and ride back to California. Would it be another set of long years before they reunited? Would it require another crisis to bring them together again?
She wondered what Shane was thinking but was wary of asking. He seemed content to sit in her kitchen and consume a substandard breakfast. Beth didn’t want an argument and felt reluctant to ask Shane any direct questions, like: “Where will you be in another week?” So she tried a different tack. “You know, I’ve been thinking...”
Shane stopped chewing the stiff toast and looked into her eyes.
“It almost seems like we’ve kinda pushed a fast forward button—or maybe it’d be rewind... whatever. Like we just pressed a button and zoomed through the long period we weren’t together, and then... maybe we each start thinking we can just pick things up right where we left them three years ago.”
He’d started to take another sip of coffee, but lowered the mug to the tabletop. “Can’t we?”
Beth placed her hand on his strong forearm. “I don’t know, Shane. I wish we’d never broken up…or whatever you’d call it. Went different ways, I guess. But we did and nothing changes that. And now, I don’t know if I feel strong enough to let myself fall back in love with you.”
Shane looked like a German Shepherd that just got smacked by a rolled up newspaper. “I didn’t know how to handle that, uh, separation... and I’m sure I screwed up a lot of ways. But I never stopped loving you, Bethany.”
She nodded but didn’t speak. A few scattered tears fell onto the slightly burned eggs she hadn’t eaten.
Shane covered her hand with his own. “Do you want to love me again?”
After a long silence, with quivering lips: “I don’t actually know.”
Shane slid his arm away slowly, leaving her hand on the table. Then he quietly pushed back his chair and stood. “Should I just leave... ?”
Beth’s mouth formed the inaudible word “no”. She made no effort to mop away her tears.
“Well, I don’t know what to do, Bethany.”
She rose from the front edge of her chair and melted into him. He held her close, tightly, as she sobbed into his firm chest. They stood that way for several long minutes and neither spoke.
“I know I want to be with you, Bethany... for certain. Everything else is too confusing.” He waited for a reply, but there was none. “I also want to be here,” he pointed toward the cottage floor, “but I’m not gonna sleep on your couch again.”
Beth pulled away from his arms to dab tissue at her eyes. She looked toward the couch with the crumpled blanket part-way on the floor. She couldn’t address this overnight issue right now. Maybe they could settle it tomorrow. For now, she’d have to deflect. Beth cleared her throat softly. “Well, I usually go visit my parents on Sundays... might be back real late tonight anyway.”
Shane looked wounded. With good reason. After a short silence, he spoke evenly: “We don’t have to settle everything right now. First priority is getting Ricks out of our lives... one way or the other. We can hardly see each other with him in between us.”
Beth nodded and mopped at her swollen eyes.
“I’ve got one more strategy about getting him where we want him... and if it doesn’t work, then I’ll have to fold.”
“I thought you’d already searched the entire town.”
“I have. So I need to get Ricks to come looking for me.”
“How?”
“Haven’t worked it out completely, but I know it involves Cratchit.”
“The old coot at the bar?”
Shane nodded. “Since I found out that Cratchit’s been playing both sides, I’ve been trying to figure how to use that to our advantage.”
“And... ?”
“An idea might be crawling around in my brain.”
Beth reached around his body again and pressed into his chest. “Find him, Shane. And when you do... kick his butt.”