Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [148]
“What did you tell her?”
“Never told her anything. Didn’t need to. You know Cee Cee. She has the attention span of a squid. Told her you were working, or shopping, or away with a friend. She was back to Charlie and Lola without a second thought. Kids are like goldfish. Th next weekend, same routine. She won’t turn a hair when you’re there, the next time she comes over from Karen’s.”
“I’m glad you didn’t tell her.”
“I suppose it meant something—the fact that I didn’t. I never let go, I suppose.”
“Thank God you didn’t.” She stopped him and pulled his face down to kiss him hungrily, months of frustrated longing poured into the one gesture.
“Lisa?” He murmured in her ear, familiarly sexy.
“Mmm?”
“Do you really want that drink?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I want to take you home….”
“Get a cab.”
MAYBE SHE’D BEEN AFRAID THAT, IF THEY WERE EVER TO REUNITE, there’d be the ghost of a third person in the room, in the bed with them. If Andy felt it, he covered it well. It was as good and close and honest as it had ever been between them—better, because it had been so long, and because she had begun to believe it might never happen again. Andy kissed her all over, reclaiming every inch of her, and then watched her as she came, straddling him, the heels of her hands digging into his shoulders, and she watched him, eyes wide with love and pleasure, as he climaxed inside her, and then brought her head down to his chest. A few long-forgotten words of poetry formed in her mind, and she spoke them quietly, almost to herself as she lay there.
For no other reason than I love him wholly I am here
For this one night at least the world has shrunk to a boyish breast
On which my head, brilliant and exhausted, rests
And can know of nothing more complete.
I am as far beyond doubt as the sun
I am as far beyond doubt as is possible.
“Come again, Lise?”
She smiled. He knew exactly what she meant. She was home. She pulled his chest hair, gently.
“Yes, please, but give me a minute….”
AND IT WAS AS SIMPLE AS THAT, AFTER ALL. IT WAS OVER. THE worst had happened, and the storm had come, and Oz had stunk, and she was bloody glad to be back in Kansas. Maybe Jennifer was right. Lisa called her, a couple of days later.
“Andy told me you went to see him.”
“Are you going to call me an interfering old something?”
“No. I’m going to say thank you. It worked.”
“You’re welcome. I thought it might. He didn’t need much persuading. For some bizarre reason, sis, you’re it, as far as he’s concerned.”
“And aren’t I glad. You know how much Mum used to hate us fighting?”
“Yeah?”
“She’d have loved this.”
Mark
The Post-it with Jane’s telephone number written on it was still on the noticeboard in the kitchen, between the number of Betty, who had come to take the ironing away every Wednesday morning for as long as Mark could remember, and a flyer for a new curry house and its 50 percent off grand opening announcement.
Mark took it down, went to the phone, changed his mind, put the number in his shirt pocket. Took the recycling out to the garage, came back and stood by the phone for a while, read about the curry house’s specials, and then metaphorically slapped himself around the face, and picked up the receiver. Vince was right, damn it.
She answered on the seventh ring, just after he’d exhaled, and begun composing his ansaphone message. “Jane?”
“Hello?” For a moment, when there was no recognition in her voice, Mark almost hung up.
“It’s me, Mark.” Should he say his surname?
“Oh. Hi.” Did she sound offhand, or just wary?
“Sorry—sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you…about the T-shirt…”
“That’s okay.” It didn’t really sound like it was.
“Have you given it away to Oxfam yet?”
“No. It’s still here.” She didn’t laugh, though, and it had been a joke.
“I wondered if I might come and get it.”
“Okay.”
So she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Fair enough. He probably deserved it.
“I wondered if you were around tomorrow, midday?” Tomorrow was Saturday.
She hesitated for a second or two. Oh