Hot Fudge And Peppermint Part 8

"Maybe it's natural for some people," he said, scrubbing the counter with far more intensity than needed.

"Not me. The world'd be a lot happier place if people had to take an exam before they could become parents."

She wondered at the bitterness in his voice, but simply said, "I agree. But you'd do just fine on an exam."Why was she trying to rea.s.sure him? If for whatever reason, he didn't want kids, there was no reason to try to change his mind and hasten his departure from her life.

He threw the sponge into the sink and spun to face her. "What the h.e.l.l do you know about it? You don't know the first thing about where I come from!"

Whoa. She'd just stumbled into some serious issues, ones that she had no intention of pursuing. "Um, you're right. I'm sorry." Where was the exit from this minefield of a conversation?

He threw his hands up and backed away. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bitten off your head like that."

She managed a wavering smile. "My head's still attached. The whole thing's none of my business, anyway."

He didn't contradict her.

Bill was certainly doing great tonight. First, he went on and on about Rachel and got Nik all confused and defensive about kids. Then, he stumbled halfway into telling her exactly why he and Scott didn't get along - and wouldn't that have made her think well of him? And finally, he'd yelled at her, in effect, for saying he'd be a good father. Well, he wouldn't be, but he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't going to explain why. If he hadn't sworn he'd never walk out on her in the middle of something again, he'd have left before he could make the situation any worse.

Instead, he asked, "Do you feel like listening to some music?" She jumped at the suggestion and offered to let him choose the music. He should be glad she didn't have a fraction as many CDs as he did, since it shortened the choosing process, but he missed having the broad range of music to choose from.

She sat on the couch, undoubtedly waiting for him to join her. He still felt awkward about his outburst, so he killed a little time checking out the pictures on the wall and mantle. The stuff on the walls was pretty ordinary, but on the mantle, he found a group picture that he thought must be Nik's family. He couldn't be sure, though, since if it was, Nik was only about Rachel's age. "Is this your family?"

She glanced where he was pointing. "Yeah. It's the only one of our whole family - Mom's holding Neal."

"He looks pretty young." Bill could barely see the baby for the blanket surrounding him.

"Yeah. A couple of weeks or so, and I was five. The picture was taken at Easter, and Mom died less than a month later."

"That's awful!" He looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction to talking about it. "I knew she'd died when you were young, but I didn't realize it was that young."

She nodded soberly. "Yeah. Neal never really knew her at all. I feel bad about that."

Since George had died when Rachel was a baby, and Francine just recently, he had his own opinion about which was worse for a child. "It must have been tough on you, too."

"Sure. Grandma was great, though - Mom's mom. She gave up her job down here for a while and stayed with us, and then later, she'd have us each come down and visit her for a week in the summer - separately, so we didn't have to compete for her attention." She smiled at the memory. "This is her house, you know. She gave it to me when she died." That must be why the furnis.h.i.+ngs seemed so old and out-of- date. "No, I didn't know that. I'd wondered why you'd have a place with a yard, though."

She sighed. "It doesn't really make sense for me, I know. But at least for now, I don't have to worry about it too much, with Neal around to take care of it."

"He told me about -" What was that woman's name?

"Marian. I know, he told me you were okay about it."

He turned away from the picture to face her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason," she said, but then added, "No, that's not the real answer. The thing is that he's paranoid about what everyone will think because of Dad and Nathan, plus he always looked up to you, so your reaction's particularly important."

She looked lonely there on the couch, so he sat next to her. "They don't approve?"

"Not a chance. They were bad enough when he went to art school instead of majoring in engineering, like the rest of us. But they expected him to get a day job after he finished school, and just paint on the weekends or whatever. He took Marian home for Easter a year ago, not long after he moved in with her, and it was so bad, we all left before Easter dinner."

"That doesn't seem fair."

But then, life wasn't fair. Bill had known that since he'd been only slightly older than Neal in the picture on the mantle.

Thinking about Mom always made Nik a little melancholy. She felt sorry for Neal that he hadn't known her, but in truth, she'd barely known her, either. Grandma had told her lots of stories about her, and over time, those stories had blurred with her own memories to the point where she wasn't sure which she remembered and which she didn't.

Grandma had said it didn't matter which was which, that it was simply important to remember about her mother. That line of thinking worked just fine until a couple of years ago when Nathan made an off-hand comment about an incident he remembered about her and Mom, something she had no memory whatsoever of. Nathan had claimed not to remember any more than what he'd said, and Dad had been off in the safe world of engineering instead of tricky real life, so no answers were to be had there, either.

She dismissed her lingering resentment - one more time - and concentrated on enjoying the evening with Bill. That was a bit of a challenge, since they both seemed to feel slightly out- of-sorts. Eventually, she suggested going to bed, thinking that maybe s.e.x was what they needed.

But Bill simply held her for a long time after they got into bed. At first, she was tense, waiting for him to touch her or kiss her, wondering if it would feel as good as it always had before. Eventually, she relaxed, and let herself be comforted.

Finally, she pushed him onto his back and took the lead herself. It felt great.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

After Friday night, Bill was afraid the whole weekend was ruined, and maybe their whole relations.h.i.+p.Sure, it had been great when Nik took the lead in making love, but he was beginning to see her point.

That was more or less chemistry, and the rest of what they had wasn't. If there was something wrong there, he didn't have a clue how to fix it.

It turned out that he hadn't needed to worry. Nik was her normal self in the morning, or maybe even a slightly softer version of herself, and it was clear that she wasn't brooding about the way he'd behaved last night.

She turned to him while she was dressing. "I'll need to spend an hour and a half or so exercising later, but if you want, we could do something together for part of the day."

"Sure!" She was in the middle of pulling a sweater over her head, and he watched as her luscious bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s slowly disappeared from view. She seemed to wear a bra only for work. Once the show was over, he asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"It doesn't really matter, whatever you'd like to do." After a second, she came out with her idea. "Have you been to that store you were talking about last weekend?"

"Not yet." Given how negative she'd sounded then, he had to wonder why she was suggesting it now.

"I looked at their ad this week, and you're right - it does look interesting. I'm trying to get more creative with my cooking, so I thought it might be worth a try." She paused in the middle of brus.h.i.+ng her hair. "But if you don't feel like it, that's okay. We can do something else."

"No, that would be great. We can find something for dinner tonight - and they have a deli, in case you dare try it for lunch."

She thought for a moment - but only a moment - before flas.h.i.+ng him a smile. "What the heck. I have to live a little once in a while." Hey, maybe a little of him was wearing off on her!

The rest of the day was like one of those sequences in a movie where the couple is together and happy and doing things that look silly to an outsider, but that make them even more happy and together than before. He always groaned to himself when one of those showed up in a movie he took a woman to. He knew the woman would think it was all romantic and wish things would be like that for them, and he thought it was stupid and was glad he didn't have to pretend like that to get what he wanted.

The thing was that it didn't seem stupid at all today, and he was d.a.m.n glad there wasn't music playing in the background - like there always was in the movies - or he'd be tempted to start dancing. Even worse, the inevitable sad fate of the lovers in the movie didn't bother him in the least. Nik wouldn't die, and he wouldn't do something so completely horrible and inhuman that she could no longer tolerate the thought of him.

The absolutely worst part was that he knew he'd never be able to tolerate another meaningless affair with a woman. Nik had ruined him for that.

Nik had always loved going to bed with Bill. Even at eighteen, he'd had more skill and intuitive understanding of the nuances of s.e.x than any of the few other partners she'd had. He was much better now, and she had no doubt he'd be even better ten years from now.

She'd also liked him as a person and enjoyed talking to him. She hadn't ever felt truly comfortable with him, though. Either she felt like he was judging her, or he seemed to be playing a role, or both. But not today. Today they were two people - two equal people - without hidden agendas or expectations that were impossible to meet. They both wanted the same, very attainable goal. They wanted to spend the day together having fun.

The only sad note to the entire day was that Nik knew it wouldn't always be like this.

The message light on Bill's answering machine was flas.h.i.+ng when he walked into his apartment. His first thought was that Nik had called and wanted him to come back to her place. Then he realized she hadn't even had time to get to church, much less to attend the service and drive back home. Unless she'd missed him so much she'd decided to skip church today?

He punched the Play b.u.t.ton. "How come you're not home, Billy? You usta always be home on Sunday mornings." Yes, and in bed with a woman - not that Ma ever cared what she was interrupting. "You ain't gone all religious on me, have ya? Naw, I guess not - not after your old man taught you 'bout his kind of religion."

Geez. That was all he needed to totally wipe out the wonderful weekend he'd just had with Nik - for Ma to be in one of her reminiscing moods, all about the bad old days. He could understand - kind of - that she maybe needed to talk about it sometimes. But why him? She knew d.a.m.n well that he had all the same nightmare memories - well, okay, they weren't all the same. He hadn't gotten raped after being beaten to a pulp, but still he heard it happen time after time.

Ma's voice was still blathering on when the phone rang. He grabbed it halfway through the first ring, hitting the Delete b.u.t.ton on the answering machine and turning the volume all the way down at the same time. "h.e.l.lo?" Please, let it be a normal human being!

"Where were you at, Billy?"

No such luck. "I was out, Ma." Then, even though he knew it was pointless, he added, "You didn't have to call back. I would have called." Eventually. When the guilt over ignoring her overwhelmed the dread of talking to her.

"I din't get a picture of Rachel in her Halloween costume this year. I always did before."

"Ma, Halloween was just this weekend! Did you expect it to come Federal Express?" Probably, knowing her. And who knew if Scott had any idea that she'd be expecting one? He added grudgingly, "I'll check with Scott this week about it."

"Do it right away, before you forget." She continued wistfully, "I'll bet she looked sweet. She looks so much like you and George at that age."

Geez. He and George hadn't been sweet a day in their lives. Would it help to tell her about seeing Rachel in her costume? Probably not, but he'd try. "She looked real nice, Ma, all dressed up like a princess."

Although the way everyone spoiled her, Bill wasn't sure she didn't actually think she was a princess. He figured that was better than the way he'd grown up, though.

"Did she have a crown and everything?"

"I don't know, Ma. She was just getting her face made up when I saw her."

"Poor little girl, without a mother to do that for her. Who put on her makeup?" "One of the women at work." He knew better than to mention that Scott was already all-but-engaged.

Ma, never a model of propriety, would be horrified - she'd been scandalized enough that Francine and Scott had lived together without getting married.

"Now, Billy - when you talk to Scott about the picture, be sure to remind him I'll be coming to see my little sweetheart at Christmas."

He sagged forward in his chair. Just what he needed! It had been bad enough all these years, knowing that Francine knew what Ma was like. But Scott had never met her. He might still think that Bill was an upper-middle-cla.s.s preppie like himself. "Okay, Ma," he said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling. He'd just have to figure some way to handle this potential disaster. "I'd better go now."

"Aren't you even going to ask how I am?" she demanded.

Why bother? She was always the same - miserable and feeling cheated by life, when it was her own choices that had done the cheating. "Sure, Ma. How are you?"

"I think I'm getting pneumonia. I keep having these coughing fits, and they don't stop until I take a little sip of cough medicine."

"You smoke too much, Ma. I keep telling you that." And her cough medicine - peach brandy - wasn't sold in any drug store. He sighed. "You doing okay on money, Ma?"

"I guess," she said, martyr-like. "You said to stop going to the casino, and there's nothing else to do around here."

Since when did she listen to what anyone told her to do? But d.a.m.n, it still made him feel like a miser. "All I meant was you shouldn't spend so much time there." Then, despite what his brain said, he told her, "Look, Ma, I'll send you a little extra this month. Just try not to lose it all at once."

"You're a good boy, Billy. I just wish your Pop had really known you."

And whose fault had it been that he hadn't? Not Bill's. It wouldn't have mattered, of course. George, Sr., was an abusive bully, and from day one, it had been clear that George, Jr., was the only son he needed or wanted. And maybe George, Jr., hadn't physically abused his wife and child, but he'd been just as much of a bully as his father.

Rachel should be d.a.m.n glad she wasn't old enough to remember him.

Nik put her book down and clicked on the TV, then turned it right back off. No, she wasn't in the mood for sitting quietly and being entertained. She was too restless for that - the opposite problem from her usual one of trying to summon up the energy to do the ch.o.r.es she absolutely needed to get done.

She decided that the difference was that she was taking better care of herself these days. She was so eager not to miss spending time with Bill that she was being much more diligent about her exercise and diet than usual. She was also sleeping better, and some of that was because of how thoroughly relaxed she became after an evening of lovemaking.

Another big part of it was her job. It was perfect for her, and she and her group were treated with respect and professionalism. That hadn't always been true of customer support at DesignTek.

Development engineering there reported into a totally different chain of management than support, QA, and tech writing, and development was definitely the favored group. She remembered many frustratingand contentious meetings where support had fought the good fight, but ended up losing.

At A-W, the tone was completely different. Satisfying the customer wasn't just a slogan, it was the goal that the whole company strived to achieve. When she went into a meeting and presented support's point of view, she could be a.s.sured that it would be taken seriously.

That translated into much less stress for her. And less stress meant that she was less likely to have flare-ups of fibro.

But only less likely. She would still have them from time to time, and she'd almost certainly still have down cycles once in a while. She didn't think doctors made any differentiation between flares and down cycles, but she did. A flare lasted a day or two, and she could usually trace it to a cause - a couple of close-to-sleepless nights in a row, something stressful that happened, or maybe catching a cold. A down cycle lasted much longer, several weeks at least, and while it didn't usually continue at the level of severity of a flare, it wreaked havoc on her life. For weeks or even months, she would vary between feeling completely horrid and just plain miserable, and there was close to nothing she could do to help herself.

That was one of the worst parts - she couldn't take a pill and think she might feel better in a little while.

Her major prayer these days was to be spared a down cycle until after she and Bill split up. In the meantime, she'd take a drive in the country and see if any of the fall color was left on the trees.

Bill got into work early on Monday morning and lurked around the coffee pot until he saw Scott arrive.

"Hey, Scott - got a minute?"

Scott's forehead creased and he gestured for Bill to follow him into his office. "Problems with the testing?"

"What? Oh, no - as far as I know, that's going fine. This isn't even about work."

Scott took a seat behind his desk, and Bill felt the unspoken question. If it wasn't about work, then what could they possibly have to talk about in a civilized manner?

He hated asking for anything, and to have to ask it of Scott made it much worse. "It's hardly worth mentioning, but I promised my mother I'd ask if you happened to take any pictures of Rachel in her Halloween costume this year."

Scott made a face. "You know, I completely forgot. Just getting her dressed and all - we got halfway to Lake Oswego before I remembered. But Seth took quite a few, and he said he'd make copies. Would your mother like some?"