Round Rock - Michelle Huneven [66]
He frowned, as if he couldn’t quite see her.
“I’m tired. It’s almost nine. This doesn’t feel good.”
“I’m doing the best I can, Libby. I’ve just been getting work done. I called you, didn’t I? Tonight I decided to take a break. I wanted to do something with you. Take you out for a change.”
“How ’bout letting me in on these plans, so I know better than to eat dinner by myself?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, in case you didn’t notice. I’m no good with this dating stuff. When I used to drink, whatever happened, happened. This is all new to me, doing things consciously. I don’t have the rule book.”
“It doesn’t take much imagination,” Libby said evenly. “If you want to take someone out, you arrange it ahead of time.”
“It wasn’t that premeditated! At eight o’clock, I finished at the damn laundromat. I had clean clothes. I put them on. Lawrence just gave me this jacket. I put it on. And that’s when I thought, Now I can take Libby out. Now that I look halfway decent. Was I supposed to squire you around town in ratty jeans and a T-shirt?”
“Well, I can’t go. Not tonight. I have to get to bed early. I told Joe I’d take him fishing tomorrow at five.”
Lewis looked around him. “May I stay?”
“If you want.” She went into her bedroom and undressed, then washed her face and brushed her teeth. Out on the deck, she found Lewis lying fully clothed on the futon, smoking. She slipped under the covers, curled away from him on her side. The night was noisy with the high-pitched oscillations of mosquitoes, distant traffic, birds and beasts scuttling in the trees. Lewis switched on the clamp lamp and picked up a book he’d left next to the bed, whose pages had grown fat and wrinkly in his absence. After a while, he turned off the light. He stood, took off his jacket and slacks, and hung them carefully over the railing. He crawled in beside her. “Oh, Libby,” he said. “Come over here.”
Her eyes were open. She didn’t move. He clambered over her, kissing her shoulder, licking her neck. “Come on,” she said. “I have to sleep.”
He rolled away. She thought for sure he would leave, fell asleep expecting it, and was wakened, hours later, by a shriek.
She thought at first the noise was a large tree falling to the ground, or a coyote’s otherworldly wail. Only after she’d seized his arm did Libby realized the sound came from Lewis. He was gasping for breath, covered in sweat.
“Nightmare,” he panted. “A curly blond wig was eating me.”
She held him, could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “You’re okay,” she said. “No wigs in sight.”
He smashed himself against her, inadvertently pinching one of her breasts. “Ouch,” she said.
“I was driving a car that was getting more and more stripped down, until it was more like a go-cart. The steering wheel was a screwdriver stuck in the column. I couldn’t steer away from the wig.”
Libby tried to free her breast. “Don’t leave,” he said.
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re squashing my breast.”
“I hate it when you freeze up,” he said.
“Me? Me?” Libby was pushing at him as hard as she could.
“You turn into a rock, a frozen rock in a frozen sea.”
“You’re hurting me!” she hissed, and finally he gave her some room. “And you’re the one who froze me out all week.”
His arms started tightening again. “I know I’m a jerk. An incredible jerk. God. It wears me out.”
“It wears you out?” Libby cried. Then, “For God’s sake, stop squeezing!”
“Sorry.” His body was flush up against hers. “Listen.” He spoke into her ear. “I want things to be different. I don’t know if I can manage it, but I want it.”
“Different how?”
His lips moved for a while before any sound came out. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. So attached to you. To like you so much.” As if moved by his own declaration, he began nudging her legs apart. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “You’re so good for me.”
They began making love, though all she could think about was how much sleep she wasn’t going to get before she