He nodded. "Yes, yes I am."
"Go take your shower, Richard, or your bath. Light the damn candles, have a ball."
"Are you going to join me?" There was a time when I'd wanted an invitation like that from Richard more than almost anything in the world. The anger in his voice when he said it brought something very close to tears to my eyes. I wasn't exactly crying, but it hurt.
Ronnie stood, and Louie put a hand on her arm. Everyone stood or sat and tried to pretend they weren't witnessing something painfully personal.
A couple of deep breaths and I was okay. I wasn't about to let him see me cry. No way. "I didn't join Jean-Claude in the tub, Richard. He joined me. Maybe if you hadn't been such a frigging boy scout, it'd be you I was with right now and not him."
"Was one good f**k all it would have taken? Was it just that easy for you?"
I pushed to my feet, coffee sloshing down my hand onto the floor. I set the mug on the table, which put me within touching distance of Richard.
Ronnie and Louie had moved back from the table, giving us room. I think they'd have left the room if they had been sure we wouldn't come to blows. Jamil had set his coffee down as if he was getting ready to jump in and save us from ourselves. But it was too late to save us, far too late.
"You bastard," I said. "It took us both to get where we are, Richard."
"Three of us," he said.
"Fine," I said. My eyes were hot, my throat tight. "Maybe one good f**k would have done it. I don't know. Do your high ideals keep you warm at night, Richard? Does your moral high ground make you less lonely?"
He took that last step that put us almost touching. His anger flowed over me like an electric current. "You cheated on me, but you have him in your bed, and I have no one."
"Then find someone, Richard, find anyone, but let it go. Let it the f**k go."
He stepped back so abruptly, it made me sway. He left the room striding, his rage trailing after him like the smell of disturbing perfume.
I stood there for a second, then said, "Get out, everyone out."
The men left, but Ronnie stayed. I wouldn't have cried, honest, but she touched my shoulders, hugged me from behind, and whispered, "I'm so sorry." I could have withstood anything except sympathy.
I cried with my hands covering my face, still hiding, still hiding.
32
The doorbell rang. I moved as if to answer it, but Ronnie said, "Let someone else get it."
Zane called from the living room. "I'll get it." Which made me wonder where Jamil and Louie were. Comforting Richard, maybe?
I pushed away from Ronnie, scrubbing at my face. "Who could it be out here? We're in the middle of nowhere."
Jamil and Louie were suddenly back in the room. Either they'd heard me, or they were just as suspicious as I was. I picked the machine gun off the floor and stood in the doorway with the gun held at my left side, out of sight. The Firestar was in my right hand, also out of sight. Louie and Jamil moved into the living room to either side.
"Don't cross my line of sight," I said.
They both moved a little farther apart. Ronnie said, "I didn't bring my gun."
"The Browning is in the coat on the floor."
Her grey eyes were just a touch wide, her breathing just a little fast, but she nodded and went for the gun.
Zane was looking back at me with wide eyes. He looked a question at me, and I nodded. He checked the peephole. "Looks like a delivery guy with flowers."
"Open it," I said.
Zane did, blocking my view of the man. The man's voice was too soft to hear. Zane turned back to me. "Says you have to sign for the flowers."
"Who are they from?"