Without You Here (5 page)

In all of his marriage, in all of the time Amberlee had been sick, and in the two years she'd been gone, Wyatt hadn't thought about being with another woman. On the rare occasion that a woman caught his eye, he was extremely disciplined in looking away and pushing her out of his thoughts. So when that girl had come on to him last night, he'd almost missed it. Then he'd told himself that he couldn't cheat on Amberlee like that. But when he'd made the mistake of looking the girl over, his body had suddenly betrayed him. He found himself justifying everything and before he knew it, he was having a great time. A greater time than he'd had in years.

When it was time to touch her, to kiss her, it all came too easily for him. He'd expected it to feel strange and wrong, touching another woman. But she'd been so open with him. The first touch woke him up. Made him feel alive. And he craved more after that. The rest had just come naturally. He couldn't recall ever having that much fun with Amberlee. Sex with her had always been amazing, but she wasn't the type to laugh in bed. Ettie had made the whole experience feel surprisingly innocent. And beautiful.

"I won't see her again tonight if you don't want me to. But you have to tell me. You have to speak to me, Amberlee."

The wind whispered in his ear and he imagined it was Amberlee telling him she loved him. He lifted the bottle to his lips again. The liquid sloshed forward and then back as he rested it on the ground beside him. He slouched down further and leaned his head against the stone. There had been a time when he'd believed he was hearing her voice on the wind. Now, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how drunk he got, he couldn't hear her voice.

It was spring. He'd gotten Amberlee's garden planted. And a crop of alfalfa for the cows. His son would be home for spring break all next week. He told all of this to Amberlee and imagined that she was listening with her chin resting on her palm and her eyes sparkling.

"I'm keeping to that list you made me," he said. As she was dying she'd written the list, two pages long, of things for him to remember to keep up with. He always had it with him, folded in his back pocket. Except for last night. "Sometimes I forget to water those violets of yours, but they're miraculously still alive." He yawned and let his eyes drift closed. He must have dozed, because when he woke up, the sun was well overhead.

His buzz was completely gone. He capped the whiskey and stood. Nothing but firm ground underneath him. In fact Wyatt felt amazing. It was his curse. No matter how much he abused his body, he seemed to bounce right back. He always felt strong and healthy.

He climbed on Tornado and rode back to the farm to work, though Stan and his dad had probably finished up all the chores. If so, he could go work on Amberlee's garden.

He met them as they were walking back to his dad's house. They waved and smiled. His dad and brother. Good men. They all got along very well. He hopped off his horse.

"Well look who decided to join the party," Stan said.

Wyatt shrugged. "Looks to me like you guys work faster without me. Maybe I'll skip out on chores more often."

They laughed. "Come on over for lunch," Charles said. "Your mother's been asking after you."

Wyatt didn't really feel it was a request so much as a polite order. So he led Tornado by the reins and walked with them home.

Liza had sandwiches and vegetables on the table when they got there. She smiled at Wyatt and poured another glass of iced tea. Wyatt kissed her on the cheek and sat at the table.

Liza was one of those elegant women of a certain age who seemed to carry all of her life experiences as badges of honor. She was wise. Lovely. Kind. Today she wore loose, linen pants and a white shirt with sleeves that belled out at the cuffs. There was just a hint of hippie in her, left over from her youth. Quite a contrast to Charles' severe, military shape and bearing. But they were perfect for each other. They'd served as wonderful role models for marriage. Wyatt and Amberlee often discussed all the ways that that marriage worked and how they could model their own after it. Or they used to discuss it.

Liza sat across from him at the picnic table on the back, covered porch. "So I got a visit from your son, this morning."

Wyatt shook his head. "That boy is the biggest gossip I know."

"Mm-hmm. So. Who is she?"

"Nobody. She's not from around here. I've never seen her before."

"Wait. What?" Stan asked.

Liza angled her head to Stan. "Your brother had a romantic encounter last night."

"It wasn't romantic." It had been so, so very romantic.

"Well what did she look like, at least?" Liza asked.

"Mom," Wyatt grumbled.

She arched a brow.

Wyatt sighed. "Blond. Average height. Built. Beautiful."

"Name?"

"Don't remember. We were drunk. It really was nothing, Mom. Really."

Liza sighed. "Well be that as it may, I'm glad you had fun. I want you to know that feelings of guilt are perfectly natural..."

How could she see into his soul like this? He leaned his forehead on his palm.

"...But you mustn't let them hold you back. You deserve to be happy. You need to give yourself permission to live again."

He sighed. "Okay, Mom. I'll try."

"Don't placate me, son. I see right through you and I'm watching. You understand?"

"Yeah. I understand."

"Have you thought about therapy like I asked you to? You know, Diane says she'd be more than happy to invite her psychiatrist friend for dinner so you can meet him."

Wyatt met her gaze this time. "No. I've told you before. No. I'm not crazy. I'm sad that my wife died. Don't I have a right to be sad about that?"

Liza cocked her head. "You're being purposely obtuse."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to therapy. There's nothing wrong with me."

Liza sighed, but thankfully didn't pursue it.

Wyatt enjoyed the rest of his lunch with his family. It was a comfortable day. He was probably still buzzing from the hormones of the night before. He kept himself busy outside until close to six. Then he ran in and showered, even though he was going swimming. He could not wait to get his hands on this girl again. He was sickened by this newly reawakened need. He owed Amberlee so much and he was deliberately betraying her. But Ettie...

She'd come on to him last night, so brazenly, but with this light about her that made her seem so pure. Even while he was fucking her, he felt clean and alive and new. She made him want to give her things. He just wanted to get to know her so he could figure out the best gifts to give her, the best places to take her, the best things to do with her. He was looking forward as much to the conversation tonight, as he was to the sex. Well, almost.

He was headed out the door when Blake pulled in the driveway. Blake climbed out of his car and looked at him. "Where are you going?"

"Um...I'm going to camp out at Cal's. He's making moonshine. We're going to get shit-faced and reminisce about our childhoods."

Blake stared him down. "You're going on a date."

Wyatt held the stare for a long moment. Then he gave up and climbed in his truck. "Don't wait up," he said, slamming the door shut.

He beat Ettie to the covered bridge, so he sat in his truck and waited. He tried not to think of Amberlee. Part of him hoped Ettie wouldn't show. Then he could go home and get drunk and watch ESPN, which was his usual Saturday night routine.

Regardless of his bravado with Ettie, he'd lived an extremely tame life. Primarily due to the fact that he'd knocked up and married a very level-headed woman at the age of nineteen. Amberlee had told him to find a means of living and support them, and so he had done it. He was happy to do whatever she wanted just so long as they were together.

Before that, though, he could recall being a bit adventurous. It had always been an effort getting his young girlfriend to go along with him, and there were some schemes she'd directly refused to participate in, but they'd certainly had more fun. He never questioned where the fun went. It was just part of growing up. But here he was, grown up, no wife, a son who was old enough to take care of himself...and fun had landed in his lap. He'd be a fool not to indulge.

Ettie's headlights swung toward him. He watched in the rear view mirror as she approached. He climbed out of the truck and grabbed the duffel he'd packed out from behind the seat. She parked and hopped out of the car, wearing a bikini underneath a thin cover that came about mid-thigh on her. It was mesh, so he could see through. He grinned.

"We got a short hike. You ready?" he asked.

She pointed a sneaker-clad foot out in front of her. "I wore more sensible shoes. See how quickly I learn?"

They held hands and took a trail that led steadily upward into the woods. He could smell the river as they got closer. The evening light was waning, but there would be a full moon tonight. Plenty of light to see this beautiful woman by. At last they arrived at the ledge of a cliff that hung right over the river. They were about sixty feet up. Ettie looked down and then grinned.

"Don't get too excited. We're going down about twenty feet and jump off that one." He pointed off to their right and below to another cliff. There was a well-worn trail they could follow down.

"Why can't we jump from up here?"

"We can. But we'll start lower. Test the waters a bit."

He tossed his duffel down and peeled out of his t-shirt. She grabbed him by the arm. "I should tell you," she said, looking up at him with those wide, brown eyes. "I'm not a very good swimmer."

He shook his head slowly as he studied her. He tried not to smile. "You don't think that might have been good information to share before we made this date?"

She grinned sheepishly. "I guess I really wanted to go cliff diving and was afraid you'd change your mind."

He let out a laugh and looked away.

"I can doggy paddle," she said. "I can get my head above water for the most part."

"Oh, for the most part. Well in that case—“

She slapped him on the chest. "Come on. I wanna jump."

He shrugged. "It's your funeral, sweetheart."

She beamed. They stripped down to swim suits and then he led the way down to the lower ledge. "I'll go first so I can fish you out."

She was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, overwhelmed with energy and excitement. It tickled him something so simple as a swim in the river could get her all revved up. "Go on, then," she said.

He stepped to the edge and took a breath.

"Scared?" she asked.

He glanced back at her and shot her a look. Then he jumped. The fall wasn't a problem. The ice cold water he plunged into, though, was shocking. He let himself sink deep and then swam to the surface. The cold was a slap in the face. He felt awake, though he hadn't realized he'd been asleep. Adrenaline coursed through him. He smiled up at Ettie and waved her down.

"Okay!" she shouted. "Here I come!" She took three running steps and leapt.

Wyatt immediately swam towards where she'd splashed. She came up sputtering and laughing. He caught her around the waist and swam her to the base of the cliff where there were ledges to hold onto. "Fun?" he asked.

"Awesome! Very cold. And awesome." Her teeth were chattering. She was so fucking cute. He kissed her.

"You wanna go again?" he asked.

She nodded. "Off the big ledge this time."

They climbed up, the effort warming their bodies. The sky was darkening, but the moon low on the horizon was already bright. They jumped a few more times and on the last jump, Wyatt swam with Ettie to the far side of the river where they could touch bottom. He walked until the water was at waist level for him. Then he turned and kissed her. The moonlight bounced off the water all around them. It made her wet skin glisten. He wanted to lick her everywhere. He didn't bother asking permission to remove her bikini top. There was an old tree hanging down in the water. He unhooked her top and draped it over a branch. Then he laved her taut breasts with his tongue and listened to her moan.

Last night he'd had only one moment of pause when he'd looked down at her and thought a younger man should be enjoying this. Then she'd reached for him and he'd realized that his time on this earth was not over and that there were still good things for him. It was surprisingly easy. As he peeled the bottom of her bikini off and shed his own shorts; as he lifted her onto his hips and felt her legs wrap around him; as he slowly thrust his way inside of her--he thought to himself how easy it was to betray his wife. Not just in action, but in emotion. This girl...this young woman fit him like a glove. She'd fit right into the moment last night at the bar. She'd fit into his pool game. She'd fit into his fishing trip. She curved against his body like a missing piece. And it made him something he hadn't been in more years than he cared to count: happy.

Ettie brought him back into the moment with a love bite on the neck.

He groaned and thrust harder inside of her. "Not where it shows, Ettie," he begged, his voice weak and airy.

The spiteful girl moved her mouth higher on his neck, where it would definitely show, and sucked again. It hurt in an amazing way and he squeezed her ass tight against him. She rocked her hips hard and then came with a sharp cry. Her muscles contracted around him and he gave himself up to his own orgasm. He squeezed her tight against him and groaned into her hair. He emptied inside of her, his legs trembling.

They clung to each other for a long moment. The cold water took their heat away faster than he wanted. Slowly she lowered her legs and she stood on her own. He smiled down at her, taking in her gorgeous, naked breasts. She was grinning up at him, her eyes bright, her teeth chattering. He laughed. "Let's get you some place warm," he said.

They took their bathing suits and swam back to the cliff side. Then they climbed back up. Wyatt pulled two towels out of his duffel and handed one to Ettie. "Did you bring food?" he asked. He wrapped his towel around his waist.

"Yep. In a cooler in my car. I made fried chicken and mashed potatoes and coleslaw. And biscuits."