The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope - By Rhonda Riley Page 0,53

to my crotch doubling me over. Then they slid from the couch to the floor. He shifted to the top. I could see only his feet sticking out past the couch. Their rhythm increased until he sputtered and groaned to a stop.

I crept backward down the hall as quietly as I could, crawled into bed, and curled up under the covers.

A few minutes later, Roy began to snore and I felt Addie slipping into the bed behind me. I pretended to be asleep, but Addie snuggled up and laid her arm across my waist. “I know you’re awake,” she said.

She smelled of his sweat, of whiskey, and of sex.

“Why did you do it?”

“Because I never had. It’s good. It’s different, too. Is it something you thought I would never do?”

“I just never thought of you with a man.”

“You just thought of yourself with a man? I saw how you watched him. He’s not as nice—not as good a person—as you.”

“He smells like whiskey.”

“I know.” She pulled me closer. “You want to marry and have children, right?”

“Yes, but not with someone like him.”

“I know.” She kissed me until the tightness in my belly eased, then reached around my waist, touching the sweet center of me until I climaxed and slept, dreaming she was in and around me, her voice humming through my bones.

I woke before dawn to find the bed empty again. The first thing one of us usually did when we woke was light a lantern. But I didn’t stop for that. I searched the house. Moonlight through windows was enough to tell me: Roy, his suitcase, his hat, jacket, and shoes were gone. Barefoot and still in my nightgown, I lit a lantern and ran to the outhouse, then the barn. Nothing but surprised livestock. Becky and Darling neighed when I climbed up to the hay loft.

Outside, I scanned the horizon, hoping for any sign of them. I called Addie’s name into the cold predawn air.

They were gone.

Mechanically, I dressed and forced myself to eat. I listened for their return as I finished the morning feeding and milking. Mid-morning, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table, hollow and stupid as I waited for them to return. Then I saw that the big peach-shaped cookie jar where we kept our egg-and-butter money had been moved. The money was gone, all fifty-three dollars.

I threw the jar against the kitchen wall, shattering it into a spray of pink and green shards. I regretted it immediately. The jar had been Aunt Eva’s. I cried as I picked up the pieces. Twice, I cut myself.

I checked the closet and the bureau drawers. Some of our clothes were missing, too. I flung everything off the bureau, stripped the closet, and emptied every drawer. I collapsed on the heap of clothes and wept. I kept going over everything that happened since Roy Hope had walked up and asked for a drink of water, but I couldn’t imagine why she’d gone with him.

Eventually, I unfolded myself from the mess of clothes and got up to finish my work for the day. Stunned and puzzled, I tried to think of anything I’d ever seen in her that would lead her to disappear, abandoning me. That was what her fictional mother had done, just disappeared after a boy. That was all I could think of. Was she doing what her “mother” had done, following a fictional lead? Why had I lied? I banged my head against the barn wall.

The house and barn seemed too quiet without her. I consoled myself by giving Darling a long combing. Then I moved on to Becky and the cows. Numb, I watched my hands move over their haunches and withers. Hands identical to hers.

No, hers were identical to mine.

I went outside to the place past the apple tree where I had found her, knelt there, and pressed my hands to the ground. Nothing. No depression, no puddle, no warmth. The red earth was its simple mysterious self, fertile and relentlessly dumb. My innocence shamed me.

That evening, as I picked up the clothes I had hurled around the bedroom earlier, I felt the crumple of paper. On a small brown bag torn open and flat was a note in Addie’s handwriting, sloppily written, but clear: “Back as soon as I can. 2 weeks? I love you. —Addie.”

I headed straight back outside and lay down on the same spot. The sky stretched endless and blue above me. Peripherally, I saw the fields, the apple