and girls were experiencing the same thing. If so, there were going to be some awfully lucky husbands and boyfriends reaping the benefits.
But not for her. Not yet, at least. She glanced at the clock and sighed. It would be hours before she could do anything about the nagging desire coursing through her. Hours .
ETHAN BOUNCED THE basketball against the ground and made an easy jump shot from what would have been the top of the key on a real court. He’d gotten better at it since his tour in Iraq; in high school he’d set an unofficial record for missing the most open layups.
He turned as the gate on the privacy fence squeaked open. A dark-skinned Asian man, much shorter and slighter than Ethan, entered the enclosed yard behind Ethan’s house. He wore jeans and a faded Milwaukee Brewers T-shirt.
“Hey, Marty,” Ethan called to his brother.
“Got a beer?” Marty Walker asked.
“In the fridge.”
Marty went inside and grabbed two bottles. He gave one to Ethan. “I hear you had some fun at the ground-breaking today.”
“Yeah, you could say that. Some lunatic in a diaper tried to disrupt things.”
“I also hear you ran into Rachel Matre.”
Ethan frowned suspiciously. “And who told you that?”
“I’m a cop. I hear things.”
“Yeah, well, I did, but that was all it was.”
“So you didn’t talk to her?”
“I was working , Marty.”
Marty’s face remained deadpan, but he clucked loudly like a chicken.
Ethan turned and shot the ball at the hoop, but it bounced impotently off the rim. “She said she’d call me when she was ready, Marty, and she hasn’t called.”
“Was she with anybody?”
Ethan caught the rebound, shot again, and this time missed entirely. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I also saw Julie there, so why aren’t you asking about her?”
“Because I thought you were smart enough to stay away from that .” Marty set his beer on the patio table and caught the hard pass Ethan tossed at him. “I just can’t believe you haven’t at least called her. You’re taking the whole keeping-my-word thing a bit too far, if you ask me.” He jumped, shot, and hit nothing but net.
Ethan caught the ball on the first bounce. “Yeah, well, nobody asked you.” But Marty’s words only reinforced his own decision. It was time to stop waiting and take action. He dribbled to what would’ve been the three-point line on a real court, turned, and shot. This time, like his brother, he hit nothing but net.
PATTY PATILIA LAY on her bed in her underwear, the window open and an oscillating fan blowing across her sweaty skin. The afternoon had grown hot and still, and the scent of the lake drifted up from the shore. It reminded her of Dewey, and that in turn reminded her of their night together. It also brought back the vivid memory of the mysterious man who’d interrupted the ground-breaking ceremony. But even more, it recalled Rachel’s story of the spirits living in the lake.
Patty had not been simply polite when she said she believed Rachel. As a child, Patty had regularly seen ghosts and faeries, and even as an adult she tried to stay open to the presence of the unseen. If someone as levelheaded and apparently normal as Rachel Matre believed there were spirits in the lake, then Patty had no problem accepting that.
And the kind of spirits Rachel described excited her.
She wondered, if she approached them and offered herself, if the spirits would come to her in the same way. The thought was alternately exhilarating and terrifying, but after her experience with Dewey, she wanted to have a regular lover. Her sexual experiences had been infrequent and seldom matched her expectations. Now she was ready to be shown again how a woman should feel under her lover’s hands.
She rolled onto her side and retrieved her cellphone from the nightstand. She pulled up Rachel’s number and was about to dial when she changed her mind. It seemed like the wrong subject for a mere phone call:
But not for her. Not yet, at least. She glanced at the clock and sighed. It would be hours before she could do anything about the nagging desire coursing through her. Hours .
ETHAN BOUNCED THE basketball against the ground and made an easy jump shot from what would have been the top of the key on a real court. He’d gotten better at it since his tour in Iraq; in high school he’d set an unofficial record for missing the most open layups.
He turned as the gate on the privacy fence squeaked open. A dark-skinned Asian man, much shorter and slighter than Ethan, entered the enclosed yard behind Ethan’s house. He wore jeans and a faded Milwaukee Brewers T-shirt.
“Hey, Marty,” Ethan called to his brother.
“Got a beer?” Marty Walker asked.
“In the fridge.”
Marty went inside and grabbed two bottles. He gave one to Ethan. “I hear you had some fun at the ground-breaking today.”
“Yeah, you could say that. Some lunatic in a diaper tried to disrupt things.”
“I also hear you ran into Rachel Matre.”
Ethan frowned suspiciously. “And who told you that?”
“I’m a cop. I hear things.”
“Yeah, well, I did, but that was all it was.”
“So you didn’t talk to her?”
“I was working , Marty.”
Marty’s face remained deadpan, but he clucked loudly like a chicken.
Ethan turned and shot the ball at the hoop, but it bounced impotently off the rim. “She said she’d call me when she was ready, Marty, and she hasn’t called.”
“Was she with anybody?”
Ethan caught the rebound, shot again, and this time missed entirely. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I also saw Julie there, so why aren’t you asking about her?”
“Because I thought you were smart enough to stay away from that .” Marty set his beer on the patio table and caught the hard pass Ethan tossed at him. “I just can’t believe you haven’t at least called her. You’re taking the whole keeping-my-word thing a bit too far, if you ask me.” He jumped, shot, and hit nothing but net.
Ethan caught the ball on the first bounce. “Yeah, well, nobody asked you.” But Marty’s words only reinforced his own decision. It was time to stop waiting and take action. He dribbled to what would’ve been the three-point line on a real court, turned, and shot. This time, like his brother, he hit nothing but net.
PATTY PATILIA LAY on her bed in her underwear, the window open and an oscillating fan blowing across her sweaty skin. The afternoon had grown hot and still, and the scent of the lake drifted up from the shore. It reminded her of Dewey, and that in turn reminded her of their night together. It also brought back the vivid memory of the mysterious man who’d interrupted the ground-breaking ceremony. But even more, it recalled Rachel’s story of the spirits living in the lake.
Patty had not been simply polite when she said she believed Rachel. As a child, Patty had regularly seen ghosts and faeries, and even as an adult she tried to stay open to the presence of the unseen. If someone as levelheaded and apparently normal as Rachel Matre believed there were spirits in the lake, then Patty had no problem accepting that.
And the kind of spirits Rachel described excited her.
She wondered, if she approached them and offered herself, if the spirits would come to her in the same way. The thought was alternately exhilarating and terrifying, but after her experience with Dewey, she wanted to have a regular lover. Her sexual experiences had been infrequent and seldom matched her expectations. Now she was ready to be shown again how a woman should feel under her lover’s hands.
She rolled onto her side and retrieved her cellphone from the nightstand. She pulled up Rachel’s number and was about to dial when she changed her mind. It seemed like the wrong subject for a mere phone call:
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