with all her toughness gone.
She stood up, the wad of towels in her hand. “Want to point me to a wastebasket?” she asked.
Dave stepped around the table and took the wet clump from her. He tossed it onto the table. He put his hands on her shoulders. He looked into her eyes.
She shook her head. “I’d better go.”
He said nothing. He eased her forward, and Joan wrapped her arms around him. Her smooth cheek slid against the side of his face. He felt the tickle of her breath on his ear, and he whispered, “You’re taller than me,” and he felt her laugh—gusts of warm air on his ear, her back shaking just a bit under his hands, her belly pulsing against his, her breasts moving slightly with her laughter, rubbing his chest.
She squeezed him hard, and he winced. “Ouch,” she gasped. “I’m sorry.”
He pushed a hand up into her thick hair and turned her head, turned her mouth toward his, pressed his mouth to her open lips, felt their softness and wetness, felt her breath enter him.
The doorbell rang and Joan lurched back and looked at Dave, her eyes wide and questioning.
He shook his head.
Joan ran a forearm across her slick mouth.
The bell rang again.
“Gloria?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“You got a back door?”
“Forget it. Sit down and have a drink.”
“God, Dave.”
“I won’t have you sneaking out.”
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yes you should. Sit down, relax.”
Grimacing, she bent over the table and picked up her glass. She took it to the rocking chair. She flinched as the doorbell rang again. Quickly she grabbed the two corks off the cushion, straightened her dress, and sat down.
Dave went to the door and opened it.
He forced himself to smile.
“How are you feeling?” Gloria asked, glancing at his chest, then gazing up into his eyes.
“Not bad.”
She stepped into the doorway, leaned against him, wrapped her arms around his back, and tipped her face up for a kiss.
Dave didn’t want to kiss her. He didn’t like the way she clung to him. She felt small and bony and tense, and she was hugging him too hard.
He wondered if Joan was watching.
Probably not, he thought. She was probably sitting in that rocker with her eyes turned in the other direction and wishing she were anywhere else.
He kissed Gloria on the mouth. Her lips were cool and stiff, but they parted and she thrust her tongue into his mouth with a nervous urgency that chilled him.
He backed away. Her eyes looked stunned, annoyed. “What’s gotten into…?”
“Joan’s here,” he said, and watched Gloria’s mouth snap shut. “Come on in.”
“Oh. Oh?” She made a tight, curled smile and stepped past him.
Joan rose from the chair. “I just dropped by for a minute to bring our conquering hero some medication.” A smile on her face (a smile that, to Dave, seemed sick with guilt), she raised her nearly empty glass for Gloria to see that the medication was champagne.
“That was very thoughtful of you,” Gloria said.
Dave saw that Joan had raised the zipper of her dress a few inches higher. The moist spots on the fabric hadn’t quite gone away. They were faint, though.
“I’ll get another glass,” Dave said.
“Are you sure I’m not interrupting?” Gloria asked.
Joan shook her head.
Dave rushed into the kitchen. He reached into the cupboard with his left hand this time, and managed not to awaken his pain as he took down a wineglass.
When he returned to the living room, Gloria was seated on the couch. Where Joan had been sitting.
Could she feel Joan’s warmth on the cushion?
So what if she can? Dave told himself.
She sat stiffly, hands folded on her lap, eyes darting from Joan to Dave.
He didn’t want to think about what she must be feeling right now.
He took the glass to the table and lifted the champagne bottle. “Just a dab,” Gloria said. “Besides, I see there’s not much left.”
“We’ve been knocking it back pretty good,” Dave said, hoping to lighten the situation. Gloria arched an eyebrow. He filled her glass halfway to the top before she stopped him.
He turned toward Joan with the bottle. She shook her head. “No more for me, thanks. I really should be getting home.”
“Oh, don’t rush off on my account,” Gloria said.
“Debbie and I usually eat about now.” She stood up. “Are you going to take tomorrow off, Dave?”
“No, I’ll be in.”
“Can’t keep a good man down,” Gloria said.
Dave set down the bottle and walked Joan to the door. “Thanks for coming by,” he said. “The medication helped.” He