His sister put the meat loaf into the oven and gave him a funny look. “That’s not good news.”
“Why?”
“Because you have an odd expression on your face, and it’s giving me the impression that you’ve broken our little agreement. Again,” she added pointedly.
He stretched his neck, uncomfortable beneath her close regard. “Yeah, well, I need to talk to you about the agreement.”
She propped a hand on her hip. “Okay…”
“Have you called Dave lately?”
“Just the one time since we last talked.”
No help there. “Too bad.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to call him.”
“I don’t.” He blew out a long sigh. “But I hate being the weak link here.”
She chuckled, which surprised him. “Does that mean our deal is off?”
He took a long, bolstering pull on his beer. “I guess it does.”
She blinked in surprise. “You’re serious? You’re giving up that easily?”
“I know when I’m whipped.”
Sinking into a chair, she stared up at him. “Whipped is an ominous word, Isaac.”
“You don’t have to worry about anything, Liz. I’m leaving, remember? And Reenie and I have decided to keep our relationship private.”
“Your relationship?”
“Yeah.”
“How private?”
“You’re the only one who will know about it. But…”
She’d reached over to reorganize the napkin holder in the middle of the table, but hesitated when his words fell off. “But what?”
“I might owe you some restitution.”
“Might?” She shoved the napkin holder away, knocking the salt-and-pepper shakers over in the process, but didn’t bother to pick anything up. “How much restitution are we talking?”
He winced. “Anything you ask for.”
She covered her mouth. “You’re getting serious with her,” she said between her fingers.
“Serious isn’t permanent.”
“It’s still serious.”
“I’m sorry.” He moved closer and squeezed her shoulder. “I know you’re not happy about it, but please tell me I can make it up to you.” Because there wasn’t anything that was going to stop him from seeing Reenie tonight.
“You mentioned restitution.”
“I did. Anything.”
She tapped her fingers on the table. Her cuticles were now fully healed, he noticed. She was even wearing those acrylic tips she’d worn before her world fell apart. “I haven’t been able to pay the entire phone bill,” she admitted.
“How much do you need?”
“Nearly five hundred.”
“Five hundred dollars!”
She grinned devilishly. “Those minutes rack up.”
“You must’ve been calling Dave every night!”
“I couldn’t let the phone ring here or you might pick it up.”
He dragged a thumb and finger alongside his mouth. “Are you going to continue the relationship, Liz?”
“No,” she said, but seemed to struggle with herself. Finally she added, “I’m a big girl. I know women are a dime a dozen to him. I know what’s best.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Besides, I have kids to think about. You don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll pay the bill. No problem,” he said gratefully, and walked away.
ISAAC’S CALL CAME at eleven o’clock that night. Reenie told herself she was crazy to answer the phone, to get any more involved with him. But she hadn’t stopped thinking of the experience in the closet and knew she couldn’t turn him away. She was already in over her head. Now all she could do was ride the rapids and hope that every once in a while she’d be able to bob up for air long enough to survive the experience.
“Hello?” she murmured.
“Are the girls asleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come over?”
He sounded every bit as eager as she felt. Biting her lip, she paced the length of her bedroom. Say no. Say no and go to bed. But that wasn’t what came out of her mouth. “I’ll put the house key under the geraniums on my front porch. My room’s the last one down the hall on your left. Make sure you park well away from the house so no one will see your car out front. I’d come get you, but—”
“You can’t leave the girls, I know. And I don’t mind the walk,” he said. Then he was gone.
WHEN ISAAC LET HIMSELF into Reenie’s house, everything was quiet and dark. Moonlight streamed through the front windows, throwing the furniture in shadow; he could hear the clock ticking on the wall.
Feeling a heady dose of anticipation, he moved quickly and quietly to her bedroom, where he found her standing at the window, staring outside.
When the floor creaked, she turned. “Hi,” she whispered.
He closed the door and locked it behind him. “Hi.”
She was wearing a pair of men’s-style pajama bottoms with a tiny tank top. No bra. Her hair fell down her back in a thick, wavy mass, and the light drifting in from outside lit her eyes. He could hardly look at her without immediately touching her.
Crossing the floor, he stood in front of her, but kept his hands at his side. “Where’s the puppy?”
“Spike?”
“Is that his name?”
“According to Angela. She named him after the pet lizard in her class.”
“We might have to make a few other suggestions.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Anyway, I put him in the mudroom for the night so he wouldn’t make any noise.”
“Good idea.”
“I guess.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m a little scared,” she admitted with a soft chuckle.
“Of what?”
“I’m not sure I want to be so…out of control.”
“Out of control isn’t all bad,” he pointed out.
“That’s the problem. But it’s more than that. I’ve never had a secret affair.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms, to reassure her immediately. But he waited, so he could be sure she wanted the same thing. “The secret part was your idea.”
“I know. I don’t see any reason to freak everyone out, especially since…since you’re leaving.”
He understood, which was why he hadn’t argued with her. There wasn’t any reason to broadcast their relationship when it could make things more difficult for her after he left.