Page 87 of Wine & Whiskey
She gives him her posed smile, grateful he’s too tired to notice the difference. “No, it’s late. I’ll just talk to her in the morning. Good night.”
At the kitchen door, she pauses. Max directs men to different areas of the house while one runs some kind of tool around the baseboards in the living room. Nick comes out of his office driving his hand through his hair, his face lined with worry. He motions to Max, and they head upstairs.
Tightness fills her chest. She’s messed up and has nowhere to go. Her life is not her own anymore. She doesn’t even know where her car keys are.
“Shae?”
She jumps at Marta’s soft voice behind her.
“Oh, Marta. I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”
“Is okay. Come sit with me. We talk the girl talk.”
Shae accepts her outstretched hand, grateful for a friendly face. They walk through the pantry to the steps leading to Marta’s apartment over the garage. Once inside, she pats the navy and white checked sofa in the sitting area. “You sit. I make tea. Is favorite kind.”
As Shae snuggles into the afghan draped across the back, a bit of her anxiety releases at Marta’s confident hands effortlessly performing the timeless ritual for generating warm comfort. She fills a small kettle and places it on the stove before scooping loose tea into the infuser. A hint of vanilla wafts through the open space from the African solstice canister sitting next to two over-sized white mugs on the spotless countertop. Waiting for the water to boil, Marta sits on the other end of the sofa. “What happen?”
“I kept something from Nick I shouldn’t have. It’s really bad. I just didn’t realize at the time what it meant.”
“Nick love you. It be okay.”
“I don’t know. He told me to stay with Carrie tonight.” She shakes her head, trying to ignore the fear coiling around her heart at the thought of their new sleeping arrangements becoming permanent. “He’s never been angry with me before.”
“He mad at me sometimes.” Marta extends her arms in front of her as if encompassing the room. “I still here.”
She smiles at Marta’s confidence. “You’re right, you are. I’m glad.”
“I glad you here too. Nick need you.”
“I’m not sure if he thinks so after tonight.”
The whistling steam shrieks from the kitchenette, and Marta shakes her head before standing. “No give up too easy.”
“Okay, I’ll try.” She accepts the steaming mug, the sweet scent of honey mingling with the tart berry flavor. "Will you tell me more stories about Nick? I like hearing about him when he was little.”
Marta’s soothing voice weaves a relaxing atmosphere around them, easing some of the uncertainty from the commotion from downstairs. She enjoys a second cup until an insistent buzz from Marta’s bedside table makes her bolt up from the couch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was up here for so long. I’ve kept you up all night.”
“I have fun girl talking with you. I nap later. Now, I get ready for church.”
She welcomes the strength of Marta’s arms around her shoulders, holding Shae tight against her petite frame. “Thank you for being such a good friend to me.”
“You come see me all times.”
The warmth from Marta’s embrace quickly fades walking through the silent house. Her cold chill returns from the normal peacefulness missing. Everything neat and orderly as Marta likes it, yet slightly off. Noticeable things have been gone through. Moved and put back in place.
Inside the bedroom, his clothes are strewn across the chair. A used glass sits next to the empty bottle of whiskey. The hiss of the shower fills the hollowness of the room.
Tears prick her eyes. Fear strangles them both, old demons controlling them, interfering with their ability to completely give themselves to each other. Even though she wants to, more than she’s ever needed anything, to let go of all the doubt she holds onto so she can love him. Help him understand why she said yes amidst her mother’s disappointed voice whispering in her conscience.
She strips down and steps onto the tiled floor. Her heart aches at Nick resting his head on his forearm against the shower wall, oblivious to the water pouring down his back.
Taking a shaky breath, she steps closer to him. “Can I come in?”
* * * *
Shae’ssoft voice pierces his thoughts and his heart as she takes a hesitant step toward him. Her fingers twist around each other, short, pink nails pressing into her palms. In the steamy enclave, wisps of hair curl around her face, sprinkled with beads of water splashing against her and trickling down her creamy, smooth skin.
She pauses, biting her lip. Tentative. Vulnerable. Insecure. Because of him.Because he’s nothing but a fucking, selfish bastard who frightens the woman he loves and makes her doubt his feelings.He has to make her understand how sorry he is. How much he needs her.
