Tragic Renewal (10 page)

Scott watched Isabella make her slow pregnant way across the room. Her pendulous belly stuck out like a giant nose sniffing her crotch. A devious grin spread across his face marring his handsome features into an evil mask reflecting his true inner nature.

“Woman, when are you going to have that kid already? I’m tired of watching you waddle around here like a duck with a stick up its ass.” His joking tone belayed the condescension of his words.

A sexy laugh dribbled from her lips, the strain of extra weight pulled and stretched her vocal cords changing her high-pitched laugh into a husky come-on. “How about instead of sitting around on your lazy derriere you get that crib put together. You’ve been promising me for the last week you’d get it done.”

He turned away so she couldn’t read the aggravation that crossed his face. “Yeah, Miss Duck Ass, I’ll get right on that.” His tone remained light and joking though his jaw tightened into a rock of contained aggression. Isabella had the rare ability to make him want to murder her. Women were his weakness and none had ever elicited his inner cave man the way she did. She made him want to lose control. His imagination conjured pictures of her hanging from a rope, a bullet hole piercing her flawless forehead, a bleeding grin slashed across her throat, and most recently a smothered princess lying under the pillow used to snuff the life from her soul.

The baby she carried ensured he didn’t act on his malevolent fantasies. The unborn held his fascination as it moved like an alien under Isabella’s skin. Purple stretch marks marred the once beautiful skin of her belly and breasts. Her breasts were swollen and pendulous as they anticipated the imminent arrival of their unborn child. Purplish-blue veins streaked the white flesh as though a child had drawn wrong colored lightning bolts on her skin. The new blemishes turned his stomach and didn’t evoke tender feelings as would be expected from a normal father-to-be.

Imperfection was unacceptable. He demanded order and perfection in every facet of his life, including his wife. He’d given up on trying to make Harper conform to his demand for infallibility. She got lost in food and sorrow and no amount of yelling and threatening would change her ways. The time he caught her with junk food stashed under the bed, he’d almost given into his need for retribution. He stayed his hand by pure force of will. That day he wanted to beat her bloody for daring to flaunt her weakness in a hidden manner. He chose to seethe in silence as she packed on the pounds, softening her once svelte frame and forcing him to accept that his wife wasn’t perfect.

Scott’s mind flashed to Harper and her easy capitulation and weak mind. Over their twenty years of marriage she’d never figured out his dark side. Every time he’d cheated she’d forgiven his wandering ways, believing his fake sorrow and promises to get help. She’d turned a blind eye every time he came home smelling of fresh perfume and infidelity. Time after time he’d been able to convince her with a simple I’m sorry, and a few days of keeping his wandering member contained.

For the first few years of their marriage he’d stayed faithful, fully satisfied by Harper’s insatiable sexual appetite. After the loss of their first son she lost interest in anything remotely related to bedroom activities. Once he had an excuse to screw around he couldn’t stop. He remembered the first time he’d crossed the line from faithful husband to satisfying his dark desires.

Her title was Airman First Class Stephanie Briggs, and he was her commanding officer when she was sent to his office for repeated speeding tickets on base.

After a soft knock on the heavy wooden door she entered and stood at attention, hand raised in a salute. Her saluting hand shook with terror and a small bead of sweat made its slow way down her magazine worthy face. It dripped from her chin and settled into the baby blue threads of her dress blues shirt. Her hat clutched in her left fist holding rigid attention.

“At ease Airman,” he said, after returning her salute. “You don’t have to salute in my office, save that for outside.”

Her whole body relaxed as her hands snaked behind her back and her feet moved into rest pose. “Yes, sir.”

“Take a seat and relax. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

She let out a strained chuckle before sitting on the dark blue fabric chair in front of his desk. Her clear blue eyes met his then skittered away to rest on the photo of him and Harper that sat on the corner of his oversized oak desk.

He leaned back. Black leather squeaked as he settled more fully into his seat. His eyes watched her with curiosity as she studied the photo. A photo taken before the pregnancy and before his mind had chosen a path of hidden evil. Harper glowed with happiness. Her trim, fit body clothed in tight jeans and a mauve cable knit sweater that deepened the dark brown of her eyes. Her Indian heritage glowed from the shiny long locks of black hair, olive-toned skin, and deep dark eyes so like her Cherokee grandmothers.

“That’s my wife and me on our first wedding anniversary.”

“She’s beautiful and you both look so happy. You’re a lucky man.” A1C Briggs said, relaxing from her earlier tension.

He shook his head with sadness and closed his eyes.  “We’re not so happy anymore. After we lost our son she’s stuck in a depression I can’t pull her out of.” He watched her, gauging her reaction to his words.

A quick cry of sympathy escaped her throat. “I’m so sorry, that must have been terrible.”

“It was, and now I’m like a man without a wife. It’s like taking care of a child. And definitely no action… if you know what I mean. We don’t even sleep in the same room, she makes me sleep on the couch. She says touching may lead to other things.” He cringed at his own boldness unsure how she would take him.

Her eyes widened as she comprehended what he was saying. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must be awful to be a married man and not be sleeping with your own wife.” Her tone belied a current of passion running under its calm surface.

His brows drew together as he chewed his inner lip, a habit from childhood when something excited him. He stretched and rolled his chair backward. “Sorry I’m getting off topic. So would you like to tell me about all the speeding tickets?”

A sheepish grin plastered onto her face. Dimples appeared deep in her cheeks giving her a cuteness he hadn’t noticed before. “Uh, I have no excuse really. I like to drive fast.”

Her dimples were close to unseating him. Months of going without while Harper wept and ate her life away had driven him crazy with need. Nightly showers didn’t satiate the need to be with a woman, it was temporary relief at best. He rolled his chair forward before she noticed the bulge tightening his pants. When he was tucked neatly under the desk he spoke.

“Well, what do you think your punishment should be for breaking the rules of the road?” He smiled, showing off his perfect teeth and highlighting the strength of overcoming sadness.

“I’m a broke airman, so I can’t afford to pay a fee. I doubt you’ll try to kick me out of the Air Force for a few tickets. So what are my other options?” She was unaware of the power she wielded over a man that could destroy her career with a few words.

“Let’s see, I can suggest they remove your base driving privileges, but I’m guessing that would make it very difficult for you to get back and forth to work. I can recommend counseling and cancellation of any charges. Or I can recommend they drop the tickets and leave you alone. My only problem is I think you may be a habitual offender, so if I did the last one I’d look pretty silly. What do you think I should do?”

A smirk played across her face, and her eyes narrowed as she considered the implication behind his words. “Is there something I could do that would make you feel better about having the tickets dropped?”

“Well. Give me a minute and let me think.”  He let the silence stretch as he pretended to be mulling over possibilities. “I have a few ideas. How about you tell me what you’re willing to do?” He winked and nodded.

She stood from her chair and turned to lock the door.

He watched her movements. His breath baited with expectation.

When she turned back, the top buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned and her hands worked on the remaining ones with heated energy. Her eyes caught his. “I think I can do something for you. You know with your wife being indisposed and all.”

He nodded encouragement as he reached down to unzip his pants. With barely contained excitement he moved to the small blue vinyl couch that rested under his bragging wall covered in commendations and certificates. He gestured for her to come closer.

She obliged with a smoky look of passion.

Afterward Scott lay back with a deep groan of satisfaction. “Well, I guess you earned those tickets disappearing. I recommend you get a few more, so you can earn more rewards.”

“How about you call me to your office and we can repeat this whenever you like. I’d like to not get any more tickets.”

“As long as you do that every time, I’ll do whatever you want.” He grunted and waved her toward the door. “Do me a favor and lock it on your way out.”

That was the first of many indiscretions. After a while he grew tired of Stephanie and told her not to return. He threatened that if she ever mentioned their fling he would do everything in his power to have her dishonorably discharged from the Air Force. She never told a soul, and he was free to do the same to an exhaustive string of females. He was surprised at how easy it was to get them to do his bidding. One small threat and they each tumbled into his arms like long lost lovers.

The male airman under his command did not get the same treatment. He viewed each, no matter how minor the issue, as a troublemaker to be removed from his sight. He destroyed many careers based on his own sense of warped justice. Men standing in front of him crying like children were sadistic pleasures that Scott enjoyed almost as much as manipulating women to do his bidding.

Isabella yelled at him from the kitchen. “Scott, I know you’re used to issuing the orders, but it’s time you follow mine. Get off your ass and get that crib put together before this baby gets here.”

Scott groaned and pushed himself from the couch. He stomped his feet as he trudged down the hall. He knew Isabella hated his heavy tread, and he used it to mess with her every chance he got.

Putting a crib together was a whole new hell he’d never even considered. Nothing lined up, spindles sat crooked in their sockets, and the mattress sat at an angle. Three hours after he began, he gave up. He tugged and jerked the shoddy crib until he got it through the front door. With a shout of anger he yanked the mattress from its crooked framed and threw it inside the house.

He pulled the crib to the curb to await trash pickup. It sat near the curb with its beautiful mahogany surface shining in the sun. He glared at the piece of trash as he backed from the driveway and considered going back to run it over, to pound it into a splintered pile of baby cage. Logic won when he considered the off-chance of a punctured tire.

An hour later he returned with a fully assembled crib. The store had charged him several hundred dollars for the privilege of bringing home a crib that wouldn’t crumple if someone looked at it wrong.

His jaw hung slack as he pulled into the drive. The defective crib was missing from the curb. Crumpled blades of grass told him he was searching the right place.

When he walked through the front door he shouted for Isabella. “Isa did you see what happened to the crib I dragged out front?”

A lack of response had him searching the house for his missing spouse. He heard movement in the nursery. She stood in the room beaming. The crib he’d been unable to conquer stood behind her fully assembled.

With a shout of rage he crossed the room. “What the hell is this? You trying to prove something you stupid bitch?” He bellowed in her face. Spittle raced from his lips to land on her shocked face.

A shiver of fear ran over her body and hair rose on her arms. Her hands shook as she held them up to defend herself from the violence seething within Scott.

He grunted. His face was white hot and heated like molten steel. With a laser eyed focus he turned and stomped through the house. After slamming their bedroom door he threw himself on the bed and clutched his head as a raging headache threatened to remove it from his shoulders.

Noah combed his hair back, smoothing the dark waves until they lay semi-neat against his skull. He dreaded the date his mom had wheedled him into, but he looked forward to seeing Harper when he dropped off Grayson. For the last few days he hadn’t seen her, but thoughts of her popped into his head at odd moments. He had difficulty resisting the urge to drop in on her as he did her first morning on the farm.

He was becoming a mind stalker he thought of her so much. Every activity throughout the day seemed to contain some vestige that made her float to the surface.

When he made breakfast for Grayson he thought how she would enjoy his unique take on oatmeal, with chocolate chips and applesauce. As he sawed wood he thought how she would inhale the aroma of fresh sawdust and a goofy smile would cross her kissable lips. Putting Grayson to bed made him think how she would enjoy tucking in a little boy and watching bright eyes grow cloudy with sleepiness. He thought of her when he dressed and saw cowboy boots, wondering if she purchased some on her shopping trip.

He stood on the edge of obsession - a new scary sensation for him. His mom always told him he fell too fast when he decided on a woman, he couldn’t deny her assessment, but he also couldn’t help it. Harper was a wounded mistreated woman who needed a shoulder to cry on, not a love-struck man mooning over her every minute. A battle of warring thoughts waged inside his head. He wanted to help and protect her, but he also wanted to hold her in a lover’s embrace.

He imagined untangling hair from the sloppy bun. Though the bun was cute in a mussed lazy Sunday morning kind of way, he wanted to release the locks from their elastic prison and let them cascade down around her face. His hands itched to stroke the hair he knew was soft as silk and smelled of lavender. With heroic control he kept his mind from wandering from the innocence of hair stroking.

“Daddy?”

Noah looked down when Grayson tugged on his shirt. “Hi, little man, what’s up?”

“Can we go now? I really want to see Miss Harper. You’ve made me wait all day.”

Grayson wasn’t helping matters in Noah’s attempt to stop thinking about Harper. Every waking hour Grayson queried about her at least once. He sometimes asked several times in a row when Noah gave him a less than satisfactory answer. He’d had the hardest time trying to explain to Grayson’s four year old brain that he didn’t want to smother Harper, and that she may want some time alone to get settled. Grayson stood strong in his determination that she needed help even if she was putting away clothes and rearranging cabinets.

“C’mon, c’mon, let’s go. Pleeeaaase, Daddy?”

“Tell you what, how about you go change into those clothes I laid out for you and hit the restroom. After that we’ll be on our way.” He glanced at his watch, knowing they’d be there early.

Noah glanced at his reflection again, holding his own gaze in the mirror. “Get through this date. It won’t be terrible, be nice and politely drop Jamie off at home and make sure she knows there will be no more dates. She’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.” With a shake of his head he left the bathroom to find his son.

Grayson stood by the front door clapping his hands with impatience. “Daddy, let’s go, let’s go. Look I’m allll ready. I even changed my own clothes.” He proudly pointed to the dark red tee-shirt he wore.

Noah smiled. “You sure did little man, but I’ve got some bad news for you.”

Grayson’s face melted into a pout, a red tinge covered his cheeks giving the appearance of blush. His eyes narrowed and his chin jutted out, all within the few seconds it took him to wonder what his dad was talking about.

“Don’t worry it’s nothing too dramatic. Just this,” he tapped the back of Grayson’s shirt “is supposed to be in the front. I mean how can Spider-Man see where you’re going if he’s on your back?” Noah teased Grayson, feeling a tiny smidge of guilt for allowing the boy to believe there was something wrong.

Grayson giggled as he pulled his arms through the arm holes and expertly spun the shirt around. “Daddy, you made me think we weren’t going to Harper’s. I was mad at you for a second. But guess what?” He looked at Noah with twinkling eyes.

“What is it son?”

Grayson shouted, “I forgive you!”

Grayson reached to twist the doorknob.

“Slow down kiddo, let me get your jacket it’s chilly out there.”

“Yum, I love chili can we have some? I really really really want some.”

Noah leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and whispered in his ear. “Guess what?”

“What, tell me what?”

“I heart you.”

Grayson’s arms wrapped around Noah’s neck. “I heart you too, Daddy. Big much.”

“Alright, enough mushy stuff, let’s get you to Harper’s and me to this date.”

Noah retrieved Grayson’s jacket from the closet before they headed out the door and over to Harper’s.

Before Noah had a chance to knock, Grayson mashed the lit doorbell. When Harper was slow answering the door, he mashed it again and again in an annoying rhythm.

They heard the door jiggling and Ziggie let out an excited bark from the other side.

When the door swung open Harper stood back-lit by the warm light from within. The smell of apple and cinnamon wafted through the air. Ziggie pushed past Harper, his tail wiggling from side to side.

Grayson giggled as Ziggie licked him from chin to forehead leaving a trail of sticky dog slobber.

Harper grabbed Ziggie’s collar and pulled him back inside. “Yuck, Ziggie that poor boy doesn’t need you to wash him.”

“No, I sure don’t. Daddy made me take a bath earlier.” Grayson admonished Ziggie as he pushed through the door and squeezed the dog’s face in his hands.

Noah stood back and watched the whole exchange, not wanting to disturb the moment. Harper was dressed in lounge pants, and a baggie flannel shirt with her hair captured in its typical elastic prison. A tingle spread over his hands, once again itching to rid her hair of its bindings. No other woman had thrown his libido into overdrive with such simplicity, and the sexiness of a flannel shirt could not be overstated.

Harper glanced up at him, her onyx eyes capturing him in their moist dark pools. Their darkness accentuated by heavy dark lashes and the sadness that still resonated within. He longed to lean down and touch his lips to hers. The heat coming from her look told him she wouldn’t resist, but he chose control. Her eyes smoldered with a heat that spoke passion buried too long. A tremor ran through his body as he squelched heated impulses.

“Would you like to come in for a minute so you can see what we have planned for the evening? I’m sure you’re in a hurry to get to your date so I’ll only take a minute.” She asked him, breaking the tension racing through his body.

Grayson giggled from the living room as they entered the house. He sat on the couch with Ziggie planted next to him, his large head covering Grayson’s entire lap. Ziggie lay on his back paws stuck straight up and tail swishing from side to side.

Harper and Noah laughed at the sight.

“Looks like he’s back to his old self. You must be doing something right by that dog.”

“For the most part he stays in a good mood, but sometimes I see a flash of depression and he’ll retreat to his dog bed. I think it gets better day by day for both of us,” she said.

After she told him their evening plans Noah retreated toward the front door on reluctant feet. He would have given anything he owned to stay here and spend the evening watching movies, playing games, and baking cookies with his son and a fascinating woman. Obligation poked him in the ribs though and pushed him forward to his dreaded date.

Harper and Grayson waved from the open front door as he slammed his truck door and started the engine. He sighed with resignation before heading up the driveway. With luck on his side the date would be short and sweet so he could get back to where he longed to be. His rear-view mirror revealed where his heart lay.

Jamie lived in a small house in the oldest section of the small downtown area. He’d never been to her house, but had passed it many times on drives around town. With dread he pulled into the driveway and turned off the truck. The truck died with a shuttering sigh to match his mood.

His hands were clammy and shook as he reached to ring the bell. The bell chimed through the small house quickly followed by heels clicking on hard floor. He sucked in another deep breath as the handle jiggled and the door opened.

Jamie stood in the opening with a quizzical smile. “Hi Noah, long time no see.”

“Yeah, sorry about this I’m sure my mom manipulated you into this as well.”

“Oh, good, she did that to you too? I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I agreed to this date because she sold me a story of how lonely you were and how much you needed to get out of the house. I guess you could call it a pity date.”

A soft grunt of relief snorted from his nose while he shook his head. “My mom is a force and refuses to take no for an answer. I’m sorry she pulled you into this. She doesn’t get you and I will never be more than friends.”

Jamie reached to grab his arm as her eyes widened with exaggerated disbelief. “What, I thought you were here to rescue the damsel in distress. Save me from a life of lonely old maid status.” She snickered. “I say we go enjoy some time out then report to your mom it’s not going to happen.”

He reached to hug her. “Thank you for being a good sport. I was empathic with her this was the last time I would agree to her match-making.”

Noah had always enjoyed Jamie’s company, but had never wanted more than friendship with her. They spent the evening talking and joking with one another about other failed dates and how each was looking for that special person to fill the void of single doldrums.

When Noah told Jamie about Harper, Jamie’s eyes widened and a smirk formed on her lips and crinkled her eyes with mirth. “Well, well you’ve been holding out on me. You like her don’t you?”

Heat raced across his cheeks and turned his throat into a stutter tube. “Uh – uh yeah I guess so.”

Jamie pressed her fingers to her lips. “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me. Though your mom might have something to say when she finds out she didn’t get to approve her first. So when are you making your move?”

Noah shrugged and huffed out a frustrated breath. “I want to make a move right now, but I’m afraid I’d be pushing it too fast. I don’t think a minute goes by where I’m not thinking of her. There’s something special about her that she doesn’t even recognize in herself and that makes her so appealing to me.”

“Oh, man you’ve got it bad. Care to hear my thoughts on the subject?”

“Sure.”

“From what I understand about her, through the grapevine of small town gossip, is her ex-husband is a complete prick, and she’s won over that depressed giant goofball Ziggie. That’s two points in your favor, and I bet Grayson wouldn’t be with her tonight if he isn’t also smitten with her. Bottom line, my friend, you need to make your move, though be gentle she’s been hurt and needs your ear more than your…” Jamie winked, “well you know.”

Noah groaned. “You started off making good points, but then had to go there, didn’t you?”

“Sorry, I know you’re a stand-up guy, but I saw the sparkle in your eyes when you said her name. I bet all the thoughts hiding in your head about her aren’t PG.”

Noah cupped his head in his hands. “You’re right, but most of my thoughts are clean. I wonder what she would say about what I’m doing. I long to hear her laugh – she has the most amazing laugh. And her eyes trap me every time I look into them.”

Jamie reached over and patted his forearm. “I have one question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“What are you doing sitting here with your platonic friend instead of confessing these feelings to Harper?”

“Jamie, you have a great point. Let’s get out of here.”

After dropping Jamie off, Noah broke the speed limit to get to Harper’s, both dreading and excited about the prospect of seeing her.

The porch light beckoned him as he drove down her long driveway. A warmth diffused his body.

When she opened the door his breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t push words past frozen lips.

She smiled and her eyes softened at the sight of him standing in her doorway. She raised a finger to her lips. “Shh, Grayson’s asleep on the couch.” She pulled back enough for him to finish coming inside.

Grayson and Ziggie lay curled together on the sofa, both sound asleep. One or the other issued soft snores, it was impossible to tell which because their heads were pushed together and they breathed in sync.

Noah closed the door and tugged Harper closer to him. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Do you trust me?”

She looked up at him with trust covered in a hint of confusion. Her brows knitted into a question and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

He inhaled a deep cleansing breath then reached to loosen her hair from its entrapment. It fell in a soft wave as he unwound the last loop. His hands buried themselves at her nape and cradled her skull as his fingers worked through the silk ropes of her tresses.

Her breath hitched in and out as his fingers worked their magic. He tilted her head back giving his lips unfettered access to rest upon her soft lips covered in strawberry lip balm.