Waters Fall (16 page)

19

E
asing her eyes open, she stared at the moonlight
prying its way between the slats of the blinds, slashing the bed covers to ribbons across their bodies. Nora tentatively drew her legs up, curling into herself, turning her back to the sleeping man beside her.
Please don't wake up, please, oh please.
She held her breath, afraid even the tiniest exhalation would stir the air between them, reminding him of her presence.

Why was she here, she asked herself for the thousandth time. Why did she keep coming back when she knew it would just mean more pain, more heartache for everyone? What was it that kept drawing her to him, to his arms, to his bed?

Like a druggie to the needle, like a drunk to the bottle, like a moth to the flame, like a fly to the web, like a....
The taunting voice inside her head paused, running out of stupid clichés to which she could compare herself.

Oh God, where are
You?
A single, hot tear spilled from the corner of her eye, running down her temple and into her ear where it pooled and tickled. She didn't wipe it away; all she needed now was for him to wake up and find her crying.

Her low back ached from the pressure in her bladder, and she knew she couldn't hold it much longer. Sliding her feet
from beneath the covers, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. She waited, afraid to look at him, to see his eyes half open, his hands reaching for her.

But he didn't stir. She took a step away from the bed, tugging her nightgown down over her hips. The floor creaked and she paused, slowly turning to glance over her shoulder at him.

 “Mmpph.” He rolled onto his side and flung out his arm. It landed on her pillow, and his hand curled around the soft edges, pulling it toward him. She fled the room.

Standing at the sink a few minutes later, she dropped her chin to her chest, and covered her face with both hands. Her tears surprised her as they began to fall in earnest. What was she going to do? How was she going to get out of this? Where would she go? Where
could
she go?

Tap-tap-tap! The punctuated rap of knuckles on the door startled her, and she let out a frightened squeak.

“Nora? Are you okay?” His voice was gravelly from sleep, and she shivered at the rasp of it. “Nora?”

“You scared me, Jake! I'm fine.
Just going to the bathroom.” She prayed he wouldn't notice the catch in her voice.

“Are you okay?” He knocked again.

“I'm fine, really. I'll be right out.”
Please go away,
she silently begged him.

“Are you sure? Do you need anything?”

Just for you to leave me alone. Can't I even go to the bathroom without you checking up on me?
“I'm fine, Jake,” she said again, hoping the children wouldn’t wake up. “Really.”

“Are you coming back to bed?”

“Where else would I go?” The words were out before she could stop them.

“What was that?” He jiggled the handle, and she grimaced, thankful she'd had the foresight to lock the door.

“I said, 'Just needed to go,' Jake. I'll be right there.”

“Okay.” He didn’t sound very certain. “Don't take too long. I'll keep the bed warm.”

As she washed her hands, she studied her face, the mirror above the sink stark and honest in the glare of the energy-efficient lighting that framed it. She hated those bulbs, preferring the old-fashioned kind with the softer glow. It had been a long time since she’d shed any tears over the condition of her marriage, and she resented the dreams that had her emotions so stirred up without her permission. The puffy shadows under her eyes, and her swollen, red nose, bore witness to both her lack of sleep and her tears. She hated crying. She couldn't hide it to save her life. One look and he'd know.

“Oh well,” she shook her head and opened the door, reaching over to turn off the light as she did.

“You’re crying.” Jake stood there in the hallway just outside the bathroom. This time she actually shrieked.

“Sorry!” He reached for her, pulled her up against him. “I didn't mean to scare you, Nor.”

She hid her face in his chest, her heart pounding so hard between them she thought she could feel it reverberating back against her cheek. Why on earth was he standing outside the bathroom door in the dark?

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. If he asked her that again she would scream. And maybe never stop.

“But you were crying.”

“Just a nightmare, I guess. I woke up crying.” She surprised herself at how easily the half-truths slipped off her tongue these days.

“What was it about?”

“I don't know, Jake.” She pushed away from him. “I just woke up sad from it. Which means I probably don't really want to remember it.”

“Okay. If you're sure….” He studied her while she brushed her fingertips across her cheeks, wiping away any lingering dampness. Standing this close to him in the narrow passage made her feel ill at ease, and she turned away to gaze across the hallway toward the bedroom.

“Were you waiting to use the bathroom?” she asked, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye.

“Oh. Oh! Yes. Yes, I was. But I just want to make sure...”

“That I'm okay?” She cut him off. “I'm
fine
, Jake. Honest. I'm just tired. It
is
the middle of the night.” Nora pressed her hands to the ache in the small of her back that hadn’t eased up, even after using the bathroom. She realized her mistake too late.

His eyes dropped to the contour of her breasts now plainly outlined beneath the thin fabric of her nightshirt stretched across them.

He reached up and cupped her curves possessively. “You're so beautiful.” He leaned down to kiss her. She turned away slightly, not ready for where this was heading, and Jake's voice dropped to a husky whisper against her ear. “Playing hard to get, are you?” He slid one arm around her and pulled her against him, his other hand skimming up the back of her thigh beneath her hem.

Trapped.

Oh, no, no! Please no.
She held her breath as his fingers caressed her flesh, his mouth moving over her face, her neck, her shoulders. His choppy breathing was making her stomach knot, and she flinched as his teeth nipped at her ear.

“I thought... Didn’t you say you needed to use the bathroom?” It was a desperate attempt, but that's exactly how she felt.
Desperate.

He whispered against her neck; there would be no reprieve tonight.

~ ~ ~

Jake awoke from his troubling dreams and peered
through half-open eyes at the clock on his bedside table. He sighed, rolled onto his back, and reached over to rest his hand on his wife's thigh. Her skin was warm from sleeping cocooned against him. The familiar rhythm of her breathing was a sound he loved waking up to.

She looked so serene and soft with her long hair spread
out on the pillow beneath her head, her mouth relaxed and slightly open, her brow smooth, sleep softening the lines of motherhood, and work, and life in general. But her eyes seemed puffy to him, as though she'd been crying, and he closed his eyes, trying to recall if anything had happened the night before that would cause her pain.

Nothing.
He remembered nothing but a certain stillness about her she'd attributed to fatigue. She readily agreed to go to bed when he asked her to, and she readily participated in their love-making before falling asleep beside him, her foot resting against the top of his the way she'd done their whole marriage.

And later—he smiled at the memory and felt his pulse begin to quicken—in the middle of the night she'd come out of the bathroom looking all soft and rumpled, her hair a little wild around her face. She'd cocked her head and peered up at him out of the corner of her eye, posing in a provocative way that drew his gaze away from her face, away from her glistening cheeks....

She
had
been crying. She'd brushed it off as nothing, just dreams.
I'm fine,
she'd said, then let him lead her back to the bedroom.

Jake sighed, berating himself for being so insensitive. He should have paid more attention to her needs and not his own. Something had upset her, and even if it was only her dreams, they'd been bad enough to make her cry. He studied her again in the morning light.

She grew more and more beautiful to him over the years. Her skin was milky white, just a smattering of freckles across her nose, her mouth full and soft, her wide eyes hinting at the Celtic blood that ran through her veins. She wasn't tall, but God had been generous with her in all the right places. She'd gained some weight with her second pregnancy, and she hated it, always trying to lose an extra fifteen pounds. He, on the other hand, didn’t mind it at all.

If he was honest with himself, he felt more comfortable with her being a little plump. Men still turned to look at her,
but their eyes didn't linger as long as they used to.

He reached over and brushed her cheek with his fingertips, a tiny tremor of doubt tripping through him, the same doubt that had plagued him since that camping trip—was it only a year ago? What if there was something she wasn't telling him? What if there was something she felt she
couldn't
tell him? He wanted to believe her, that everything was okay, but a voice inside his head whispered ugly words of uncertainty. Was she lying to him? Bad dreams? What else would make her cry in the middle of the night?

He wanted her to wake up. He knew it was selfish, but he didn
’t want to spend the next hour or so alone with his thoughts. If she was awake, she'd assure him that everything was going to be okay, that she would always be there. He didn't think he could survive if anything happened to her, if she was taken from him, or worse, if she ever left him.

He knew these early mornings before she woke were an ideal time to spend in conversation with God, praying and reading his Bible. He used to do so more regularly, especially right after he quit drinking, but lately God seemed distant, and Jake was too easily distracted by his nagging questions about Nora.

He propped himself up on an elbow, debating whether to get up and put on the coffee, or hunker back down under the covers with her. She stirred a little, sighed, and smiled softly in her sleep. He wondered if she sensed him watching her, and the thought made him smile in turn.

“I love you, Baby,” he whispered.

~ ~ ~

I love you, Baby.
Nora rushed to the surface of
awareness, her heart pounding.
Tristan!
She almost said his name out loud. In her dream, the two of them had been together, a family, along with her children. They were sitting by a pool on a brilliant summer day, the kids splashing and shouting in the water, while she and Tristan looked on. The next moment Tristan, Leslie, Felix, and Jake were waving goodbye to her as she reached through the bars of her jail cell. Tristan turned and said, “I love you, Baby,” then herded the others out the door ahead of him. She cried out for them to come back, not to leave her there, but they couldn’t hear her. No one could hear her.

She held her breath, afraid to open her eyes until she was fully awake. Her pulse slowed as disappointment and frustration, coupled with relief, washed over her. She was in her own bed. The words that sounded so much like Tristan's had come from Jake who lay awake beside her in the subtle light of dawn.

She could feel him watching her, and she tried desperately to stay relaxed, as though still asleep. She snuffled and rolled away from him, turning onto her side.

“Nora?” He said her name quietly, tentatively.

She didn't respond, and he must have assumed she was still in dreamland. She felt his fingers touch her hair, brush along her shoulder, and down her arm. She tried not to flinch. The mattress shifted beneath her as he got up, then he quietly left the room.

She buried her face in her pillow, her body curling slowly into a tight ball of misery. How much longer could she go on like this?
Love, hate, need, obsession, manipulation. Lies, lies, lies. It was like being torn apart from the inside out, and Nora couldn't help wondering if there were already rifts in her body, little fissures, tiny striations in her skin. She ached for Tristan. Thoughts of him consumed her almost every waking moment, nearly suffocating her at night. When she wasn’t with him, she worked until she couldn't even prop her eyelids open, then came home and went straight to bed. But the minute she closed her eyes, she saw him, his face, his hungry eyes. When she did finally fall into an exhausted slumber, her sleep was anything but peaceful. Her dreams were haunted by hide-and-seek games with Tristan, Jake, and herself. Renee often appeared, trying to keep everyone and everything organized, and the kids dashed in and out, sometimes oblivious, sometimes looking haunted and empty.

Jake maneuvered carefully around her most of the time. He didn't avoid
her, he just handled her with kid gloves. He was deeply affected by her suffering, and in response, tried way too hard to make her feel better. But in his attempt to comfort her, he only suffocated her, in being sensitive and tender toward her, he only seemed the bigger fool to her. If he only knew why she was so miserable, he'd want nothing more to do with her.