Reverend Loughgren - and they told him everything and he blessed them and now they're happily married again. My reputation is zilch in this town now. Zilch. And I come from a good family, too."
No tears. No dramatics. She sort of laid it all out, in fact. "So what do I do? I come over here and sit around practically naked and offer myself to you. Now that makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? Thanks for not taking me up on it. You're a real gentleman. It wouldn't have meant anything to me, and I know you don't want it that way."
"Well," I said. "Well, well, well."
"I mean, I just wanted to hurt him. But I see now that if I'd gone to bed with you, I'd just have ended up hurting myself."
I think I probably threw in several more "well, well, well's" somewhere along the way. But I was speaking on automatic pilot. Because if I'd ever needed the cold slap of confirmation, she'd just given it to me. The slap that said she didn't love me romantically and never would.
Then she said, "You know what I'd like to do, though?"
"What?"
"Could we just lie down and you just hold me?"
God, was she hard to figure out.
"I mean, we'd keep our clothes on and everything."
"Oh." It was going to be like high school again, you lying beside her and every time you brush against her - your body just one giant erection - she says, in the voice of a much put-upon saint, "Please, McCain, I thought we were just going to lie here and not do anything."
"I know it's a lot to ask and it's really unfair - because we won't be doing anything or anything - but I really just need to be held. You ever get like that? Where you just ache to have somebody hold you like you're a little kid?"
"Nah," I lied, "I never felt like that."
"I'm really down, McCain. Please just be near me."
***
She cried, wept, sobbed, shrieked, gasped, wailed, moaned, and once even screamed. And I'm not using a thesaurus here, either.
I had a lot of what you call mixed emotions - which usually means, in my experience, that you don't much care for what someone is doing. I guess I was jealous, mostly. It sure would be nice if she cared enough about me to do any of the things listed above. On the other hand, when I was being more rational about it, I saw we were in the same fix. Stu, the selfish prick, had broken her heart and she had broken mine.
About half an hour after we stretched out on the bed, she went to sleep. There were two things wrong with this by my calculations. One was that my arm was under her head and was already numb. The other was that, because of the angle of my useless arm, I was pressed against her backside and every time she squirmed even a little bit - well, I'll let you imagine the rest for yourself.
It happened about an hour into our little emotional sojourn on the bed. I was dozing off; my arm by now had atrophied. My dad had a good saw. We could save hospital money and just do the amputation ourselves. It'd be like pruning a tree.
I was dozing and not aware and -
And then she was facing me and kissing me, and when I tried to say something she inserted her tongue in my mouth to shut me up. And then a moment of terror. All those years I'd loved her so much and wanted her so badly, what if, in the moment when it was about to happen, I couldn't -
As she started to strip away the shirt she was wearing, I realized that certain parts of my body weren't responding the way they should. Here, just twenty minutes ago I couldn't get the damned thing to behave itself, and now -
But then we were kissing again and her silken fingers moved down my stomach. A brief touch was all it took and then - thank God - I was ready.
***
"Well," she said afterward, in the darkness. "Was it worth the wait?"
I felt so many different things - exultation, simple
No tears. No dramatics. She sort of laid it all out, in fact. "So what do I do? I come over here and sit around practically naked and offer myself to you. Now that makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? Thanks for not taking me up on it. You're a real gentleman. It wouldn't have meant anything to me, and I know you don't want it that way."
"Well," I said. "Well, well, well."
"I mean, I just wanted to hurt him. But I see now that if I'd gone to bed with you, I'd just have ended up hurting myself."
I think I probably threw in several more "well, well, well's" somewhere along the way. But I was speaking on automatic pilot. Because if I'd ever needed the cold slap of confirmation, she'd just given it to me. The slap that said she didn't love me romantically and never would.
Then she said, "You know what I'd like to do, though?"
"What?"
"Could we just lie down and you just hold me?"
God, was she hard to figure out.
"I mean, we'd keep our clothes on and everything."
"Oh." It was going to be like high school again, you lying beside her and every time you brush against her - your body just one giant erection - she says, in the voice of a much put-upon saint, "Please, McCain, I thought we were just going to lie here and not do anything."
"I know it's a lot to ask and it's really unfair - because we won't be doing anything or anything - but I really just need to be held. You ever get like that? Where you just ache to have somebody hold you like you're a little kid?"
"Nah," I lied, "I never felt like that."
"I'm really down, McCain. Please just be near me."
***
She cried, wept, sobbed, shrieked, gasped, wailed, moaned, and once even screamed. And I'm not using a thesaurus here, either.
I had a lot of what you call mixed emotions - which usually means, in my experience, that you don't much care for what someone is doing. I guess I was jealous, mostly. It sure would be nice if she cared enough about me to do any of the things listed above. On the other hand, when I was being more rational about it, I saw we were in the same fix. Stu, the selfish prick, had broken her heart and she had broken mine.
About half an hour after we stretched out on the bed, she went to sleep. There were two things wrong with this by my calculations. One was that my arm was under her head and was already numb. The other was that, because of the angle of my useless arm, I was pressed against her backside and every time she squirmed even a little bit - well, I'll let you imagine the rest for yourself.
It happened about an hour into our little emotional sojourn on the bed. I was dozing off; my arm by now had atrophied. My dad had a good saw. We could save hospital money and just do the amputation ourselves. It'd be like pruning a tree.
I was dozing and not aware and -
And then she was facing me and kissing me, and when I tried to say something she inserted her tongue in my mouth to shut me up. And then a moment of terror. All those years I'd loved her so much and wanted her so badly, what if, in the moment when it was about to happen, I couldn't -
As she started to strip away the shirt she was wearing, I realized that certain parts of my body weren't responding the way they should. Here, just twenty minutes ago I couldn't get the damned thing to behave itself, and now -
But then we were kissing again and her silken fingers moved down my stomach. A brief touch was all it took and then - thank God - I was ready.
***
"Well," she said afterward, in the darkness. "Was it worth the wait?"
I felt so many different things - exultation, simple
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