That surprised him. "And you didn't go elsewhere?"
"Of course not. What a horrible question."
He didn't think he was out of line. Fifteen years ago, she'd been having sex with him but had married Steven.
"Some women might have."
"Not me. I was always faithful to Steven."
"He's been gone seven months."
"Almost eight now."
"Eight months is a long time to go without getting laid."
Her gaze slid from his to his mouth, down his throat and stopped on his chest. "Maybe for some people."
"No, most people."
She looked away. "You know that old saying, 'If you don't use it, you lose it.' It's true."
"You obviously haven't lost it."
She grabbed her glass and he watched her move to the kitchen sink. She looked out the window into thebackyard and took a long drink. She set the water back down and her hands grasped the counter. "I did for awhile. When you live with someone who is dying, sex is not a high priority. Believe me. Your life becomesconsumed with doctor's appointments and trying new therapies. Figuring out the right medication to combatstrokes and seizures and pain management."
He turned to gaze at her profile. He didn't want to know any of this. He didn't want to feel sorry for Steven, buthe couldn't seem to help but ask, "Was Steven in a lot of pain?"
She shrugged. "He never liked to admit it, but I know that he was. I'd ask him and he'd just grab my hand andtell me not to worry about him." She laughed without humor. "I pretended not to worry, and he pretendedeverything was okay. He was better at his part than I was."
"Steven was always better at pretending than either you or me." For years he and Steven had pretended thatDaisy was just a friend. A girl who was a buddy Steven had been so much better at it than Jack.
She nodded. "He pretended right up until the last day. The night he died, he slipped into a coma, at home." Shelooked across her shoulder and her eyes met his across the distance. "Nathan and I watched him take his lastbreath. If you've ever seen something like that, it changes you. You get real clear about what's important." Sheswallowed hard and added, "About things you have to make right."
He stood very still as his stomach twisted into a knot. Daisy's words affected him more than he would havethought. He hadn't watched either of his parents die, and for that he was grateful. He had dark enoughmemories.
"Did you know that coffins have springs in them?"
"Yeah." He and Billy had had to pick out two. At that time, he hadn't had enough money to afford much ofanything. His parents had been buried without springs and fancy satin pillows. "I knew that."
"Oh. That's right." She looked back out the window. "I remember your parents' funeral. You were so young tohave such a horrible thing happen to you. I didn't appreciate how horrible then. Not really. I do now."
Jack moved to stand behind her and he raised his hands to grasp her arms. But before he touched her, he thoughtbetter of it and dropped them to his sides.
She took an envelope from a pocket in her ugly dress and set it next to the sink. "This is the letter from Steven.
The one I told you about."
He really didn't want to read it, and knew that made him all kinds of a bastard. But he really didn't want to bereminded of the black hole of his past.
"Steven and I never meant to hurt you, Jack. We were all such good friends, and it never should have endedbetween us the way it did. We were so young and stupid. The night we came to you was one of the worst nightsof my life." She paused a moment and said just above a whisper, "You were wearing a white T-shirt that nighttoo."
Yes, they'd been standing in the moonlight. He'd been pleading with her not to leave him. He'd beaten the hellout of his best buddy, and now his best buddy was dead. Something in Jack had died that night too. For somereason, hearing about it this morning, made it more real then it had been in years. Brought it all back to life.
Made the places in his soul burn. "Stop it, Daisy." He grabbed her aims below the sleeves of her T-shirt. "Don'tsay any more."
"I have to, Jack." She looked up over her shoulder into his face. "When you told me that we needed time awayfrom each other, I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. You have to understand how scared and -" He liftedher chin as his mouth swooped down on hers, silencing her with a hard kiss. He pulled her back against his barechest and wrapped his arm around her stomach. He did not want to hear anything he just wanted to feel. Feelher pressed against the length of him. Naked. He wanted more mind-numbing sex again and again until hefinally got her out of his system. Out of his head.
At first she stood stiff in his arms, her lips pressed together but when he softened the kiss, her lips parted. Asilent invitation to take what he wanted.
The telephone rang and he let it. It rang as his tongue entered her mouth, and she tasted as she had before, onthe trunk of the Custom Lancer. Warm and sweet like Daisy. She tasted of things long forgotten. Of soft skinand need and lust and a love that had ripped his heart out.
He pushed the memories from his head as he slid one hand to her right breast. The phone continued to ring as hecupped between her legs through the heavy denim. "Daisy," he spoke to the side of her head and breathed deepthe scent of her hair. "Come to my bed and let me remind you about sex again."
The ringing stopped but instantly started again. Daisy slid out of his grasp and moved across the kitchen. "Thatmight be important," she said.
He had a pretty good idea who it was. Buddy Calhoun was supposed to come by and pick up a Corvair Monzasitting in the shop and take it to his garage in Lubbock. Buddy was the best body man in the state, and one ofthe few restorers Jack trusted to take a vehicle out of his shop. But his timing sucked. Instead of pursuing Daisy,he walked to the telephone, his boot heels an angry thud against the old linoleum floor. "This better be good,"
he said into the receiver.
"Hello," a female voice spoke, "this is Louella Brooks. Is Daisy there?"
He glanced back at Daisy. "Oh, hello Mrs. Brooks. Yeah, she's right here."
Daisy walked across the kitchen and took the phone from him. "Hello?" She looked up at him and frowned.
"What? What happened? Is she okay?" Her brows lifted almost to her hairline. "Good. Where's Pippen?" Daisycovered the side of her face with her hand. "Thank God." There was a pause and then she said, "Okay. I'm onmy way." She hung up the telephone and turned to Jack.
"What's the matter?"
"My sister has officially lost her mind. That's what's the matter," she said as she moved to the counter andpicked up her purse.
He ignored the ache between his legs as he reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. "Is Lily okay?"
"No, she's a nut. What did she and mother do before I came to visit?" she asked, distracted as she shoved herhand inside her purse and pulled out a set of keys. "Run around acting weird and delusional? What are theygoing to do once I go back home?" She walked from the kitchen and through the living room. "Good gravy Ihave my act together more than either of those women. Now, how darn scary is that?"
He didn't answer because he pretty much figured it was a rhetorical question and he didn't want to upset hermore.
Through the screen door, he watched her jump in her mother's car and drive away. A glimpse of the Caddy'staillights and whine of the steering linkage as she pulled around to the street, was the last he expected to see orhear of Daisy Monroe.
Jack walked back through the empty house to the kitchen. He returned the milk to the refrigerator, and his gazefell on the white envelope she'd left behind. Steven's letter. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Hisname was written in all capital letters in blue ink on the front.
He opened a cupboard door and stuck the envelope between two coffee mugs. He'd read it someday. But notnow. Not when the memory of Daisy, naked on the back of the Custom Lancer was still so fresh in his head.