Drawing Blood (34 page)

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Abigail

He was between her legs, but she was on top. He was hard and hot inside, his strong hands digging in to her thighs and she churned against him, so close … Just a couple more …

The orgasm was a golden wash of warmth over her skin, wrenching her head back and tearing a cry from her throat. She rode out the aftershocks, and when he sat up it was to roll her over on to her back.

She opened her eyes, startled. She’d thought he finished …

She wasn’t in the underground shelter in France. That was a dream, a memory that only gets better with time. She rolled on to her back, then jumped. David was up on one arm looking down on her, and the look on his face made her swallow and rise up on to her elbows.

“David, what time is it?” He stared at her. There was no smile. She was worried she was flushed, but at least she wasn’t gasping for breath. “David? What’s wrong?”

“I’m convincing myself you were just dreaming about me.”

Abigail swallowed again, divine panic rising. The look on his face was terrible. She hated that she’d put it there.

“It was you,” she lied. He set his jaw and her stomach turned. She hated the guilt. “Oh God, I’m so … I’m so embarrassed.” She got up, tightening the belted robe and rushing from the room, locking herself in the bathroom. Her heart was racing, she thought she might actually throw up.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Abby? Abby, open the door. We should talk about it.”

She barely heard him. What had she been thinking? She’d seduced her husband on their wedding night by doing the same things she’d done to seduce Elliot. It couldn’t have been more similar if she dreamed it.

“Abby? I’m sorry. I get jealous. I’ve got no right to judge. Hey, I have dreams too, right?”

She caught her breath and splashed cold water on her face. David knocked again, and his pitiful begging made her open the door. He had a hand on both sides of the door jamb, and he seemed surprised that she’d actually opened the door. He took a step backwards.

“Come with me, let’s talk.”

They slowly found their way back to the bedroom and sat with their backs against the headboard, legs out straight in front of them on the mattress. He took her hand, lacing her fingers with his.

“In my nightmares, I’m not just back in the war,” he said evenly. “I’m dead. I’m dead and surrounded by the dead, I can feel their cold, clammy skin, and it holds on to me, pulling me down with them in to the mud and the blood of the ground. I feel like I’m drowning in my own death … that’s when I panic, thrash around. I used to drink so I didn’t dream at all. But that doesn’t always work, either. Lately I have … flashbacks from the war. That’s when I sleepwalk.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish … I wish I could do something.”

“Elliot said he talks about what happened, and that seems to help with the dreams. Not that they go away, they just … he can handle them better. Almost like he knows that he’s dreaming, so he doesn’t … live in that terror. He waits for it to pass.”

She didn’t react to the name Elliot. She thought that was a good sign.

“I don’t want to go to a church basement and sit around listening to everyone else’s version of the same stories I have. But … maybe if I can tell you about it?”

She nodded, then added, “Of course.”

“I was in battle for almost a year straight. In that time, I never honestly slept. I could drift in to that ‘nap’ level of sleep. If I was lucky. I could never relax. The nights at your house were the first two nights of honest sleep I’d had, and I had the first of the nightmares there. They were so real. The panic, the fear … I even pissed myself a few times once I got home. So that’s when I started drinking … to just get tired, then I realized a black out was still sleep but it came with no dreams.”

She squeezed his hand.

“I never had the survivor’s guilt you read about. I had trouble with the fact that I killed people. I mean, they looked like me. They were all young men, too. And I know there are widows here … but we made widows, too. And orphans.”

He lapsed in to silence, and so Abigail started. “I knew I had been getting lonely when I would dream about James. Nothing significant, just snippets of our life together. When I woke up again, the world seemed even colder than I had originally thought. Then I stopped dreaming about him. But … I’m still flesh and blood, right? In my dreams I stopped being lonely. I dreamt of that Resistance member … in that way. But … they would turn in to nightmares. He would inevitably morph in to that German captain. But Bossong would die right in front of me, and that’s when I woke up.” She looked to him. “I dreamed of sex a lot. I thought there was something wrong with me.”

He wasn’t looking at her. “I’d love to dream about sex again.”

There was a pause, and she surprised even herself when she laughed. She covered her mouth, and he looked at her in surprise. But as she tried not to laugh he smiled, then he let loose with one, too.

“What happened happened. No amount of apologizing is going to change it,” he acknowledged, still smiling.

She kissed his hand, not wanting to cry. “If it happens again, just … kiss me awake.”

“Why?”

She leaned in to him, kissing him slowly then smiling at the startled look on his face. “Because I’ll want to make love. And the real thing is so much better than some dream.”

She kissed him again, and she liked the sound he made as he rolled her on to her back. This time the lovemaking was intense, still brief, but no less satisfying for it. She smiled as he orgasmed, cursing how quickly it had arrived again.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, rubbing his shoulder. “We’ll just keep practicing until you can control yourself better.”

“That sounds good to me.”

Their first day as man and wife had started with a lot of drama. The rest of the morning passed without much incident. They had breakfast with Archie, then decided to go for a stroll through the park and go for ice cream.

Abigail was startled to see Elliot and Janet there already, but David explained he invited them. Caroline was with Janet’s parents. She was even more surprised when David suggested the two of them lag behind while Archie walked for a while with Janet and Elliot.

She felt irrational panic, but agreed. When they were on their own David leaned over and whispered close to her ear. “Elliot wants to know his son. And so does Janet. I thought this was a good sign that we can all get along. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but … I didn’t know how.”

She watched them walking, each holding one of Archie’s hands. David was right, of course. Just because the situation was awkward it didn’t mean Elliot wasn’t allowed to be a father of sorts to Archie. Abigail studied David as he watched them too, and he was smiling. Archie would likely see David as his father, she knew that. If this complicated family situation didn’t bother David, it wouldn’t bother her, either.

Archie made a sticky mess of his ice cream cone, but he loved it all the same. Abigail cleaned him up with napkins as Janet handed them to her, both of them laughing as he struggled and insisted “No!”

“Archie! For heaven’s sake!” But she was laughing, and that didn’t make clean up any easier.

She shook her head and admitted defeat when he was almost clean. Then he was off like a shot, tearing across the grass towards David and Elliot. He grabbed David’s leg, looking up at him as David ruffled his hair.

“I have to say, Abigail,” Janet said, clearly wanting to say something she wasn’t sure would be welcome. “I have days where I wonder how the hell I’m going to get through the day without leaving Caroline in her play pen to yowl her heart out. And I’m not living in a war-torn country.”

Abigail just smiled in response.

“You raised that boy on your own. You’re … you’re amazing.”

Abigail sighed. “I’m just … I’m just a mom, Janet. If you had to, you could do the same thing. But you’re lucky. You’re here, you’re married, you have a gorgeous, healthy baby girl. And with everything that’s happened … I think you might be one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”

She shook her head. “I’m an emotional wreck most days, to tell you the truth. I admit it; I didn’t want to talk to you. I didn’t want to get to know you. I didn’t want to hear your sad story and feel anything other than hatred for you. But … I can’t. I do like you. And I can’t throw any stones … as you and most of my friends and families know.”

Abigail shrugged. “What happened to you is not your fault.”

She shook her head. “We’re women, Abigail. On some level I wanted him to at least hit on me, right? Why else would I drink an entire bottle of wine with a man that’s not my husband?”

Abigail studied Janet’s profile. She was a gorgeous woman. Abigail knew she was nowhere near as pretty as Janet was. It didn’t make her uncomfortable, that’s just the way it was.

“The only thing I don’t understand is … why your neighbour? I mean, I saw him and …” she shook her head.

Janet burst out in outrageous laughter, her cheeks colouring as she covered her face. “I know, I know. That must be the worst part!”

They both collapsed in to giggles, and Janet took her hand. Her eyes were full of acceptance and friendship. “Thank you for taking such good care of Archie anyway. It’s important to Elliot; he wants to be a part of the boy’s life. So it’s important to me, too.”

“And Archie is what I love more than anything. So thank you for accepting him. Some might say he’s a bastard, but the way I see it, he’s got more people wanting to love him than most people get in a lifetime.”

Janet smiled, watching their men. “I like that. When you put it that way, I really like that.”

Abigail had never expected to make friends with Janet, but it happened anyway. Life could still be so full of surprises. If this was even real. Abigail wondered if she was dreaming again.

“I know it’s just your second night of wedded bliss, but … what if we pick up something quick for supper and head back to our place? I’d like to have you over for supper again, but I want to do a better job this time.”

Abigail smiled. “We’ll ask David, see what he thinks.”

Janet nodded, still holding Abigail’s hand. When David and Elliot came back swinging Archie between them Elliot noticed that they were holding hands. If he thought it was odd he didn’t show it. Actually, it made him smile.

“Elliot, honey. I was thinking we should pick up a cooked chicken at the grocer’s, then have David and Abigail over for a supper that won’t involve fist fights and public humiliation.”

Elliot laughed at that, but David looked uncomfortable. “I am sorry about punching that guy. I hadn’t had a drink in a while -”

“Don’t be sorry,” Elliot cut him off. “I just wish it had been me.”

“Archie, would you like to go to Elliot and Janet’s for supper?” Abigail asked, holding out her hand.

“Yes!” He hopped over to her, climbing on to her lap.

“Well, there we go.” Janet sounded pleased, and Archie smiled at her shyly.

“
Maman, elle est si jolie,
" he said quietly.

“
En anglais,
Archie,” Abigail reminded him, kissing the top of his head.

“She’s pretty.”

Janet ducked her head, smiling.

“She is,” Elliot agreed, taking Janet’s hand and pulling her to her feet, and then in to his arms.

“Well maybe you men should take Archie with you to go and pick up a few refreshments. Abigail and I will take care of the food.”

David was watching her, and Abigail smiled at him over Archie’s red hair. “What do you think, my dear husband?”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that.” He leaned over Archie to kiss her on top of the head. “Well, we’ll see you ladies back at the Murphy’s then. White wine, Abby?”

She nodded. “Sounds lovely.”

“See you,” Elliot echoed, kissing Janet on the lips. Then he reached down and plucked Archie from Abigail’s lap. Archie let himself be picked up and propped on Elliot’s hip. Her heart caught in her throat to see them like that. They could not have been more obviously related. It was like getting slapped in the face with that stupid fantasy of hers. Only right now Janet was standing next to Elliot, smiling at Archie as he reached a plump hand out to try and grab her nose.

Abigail stood, and David put his arms around her. “I’ll miss you.”

“Mmm. Just don’t take long.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Elliot gave Janet his keys, and Elliot and David took their car to the liquor store. At the grocery store Janet and Abigail picked out what they needed and Abigail insisted on putting in for half the cost. They were back at the house before their husbands, so they got the vegetables ready like they’d been having Sunday supper together for years.

If it hadn’t been such a relief to have Janet accepting her, it would have made for a great scene in a farce.  There was no need for double-entendre on this one though: the situation was nearly laughable as it was.

They passed a pleasant evening with a meal in the dining room, then a couple more drinks in the living room. Archie fell asleep on the sofa with his head in Abigail’s lap as they continued to visit. Abigail hadn’t wanted to like Janet any more than Janet wanted to like her, but it happened anyway. They got along great.