Page 56 of Red Mountain Burning
Otis quietly opened the door of his house and stepped inside. To avoid getting in trouble with Joan, his plan was to sleep in the recliner in the office—something he’d done many times in the past. In fact, he’d slept in that recliner for years after his wife passed. When Joan asked in the morning, he’d just tell her he hadn’t been able to sleep and hadn’t wanted to wake her with his tossing and turning.
In the foyer, he stripped down to his boxers. He winced at the sound of the hardwoods creaking. Though he loved his little cottage, it was too small for such midnight shenanigans.
As he passed the living room, a light came on, and he jerked his head left. Joan sat in a chair by a glowing lamp.
“You scared the heck out of me,” Otis told her. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I should ask you the same question, shouldn’t I? What in the world are you doing out there at this hour?”
Otis had told some tall tales in his day, but he’d never been able to get away with them with Joan. She was so good at reading him that, even if he tried to bend the truth just a hair, his hesitation, his shaky hands, or his shifting eyes would betray him.
“My love, some things are better not discussed.”
“What does that mean? Don’t tell me this has something to do with your neighbor. I don’t like all this late-night running around.”
Otis drew in a long breath. “It’s best you not know what goes on out there.”
Joan shook her head, and once again, he could see her frustration with him.
“Look, Joan. Please don’t ask. It’s nothing, really. Just old-man games between me and Bellflour.”
Joan put her hand on the knob of the lamp. “You’re acting like a child. And these games…if they continue, someone is bound to get hurt.” With that, she switched off the light.
