We eyed each other cautiously as we sat down to eat. Jack had opened the kitchen window, and the cool morning air came in with a gust of smells that meant spring. I heard a car start up and glanced at the clock. Carlton was going to the Singles Sunday-school class at First Methodist, and he'd be home at twelve-fifteen, right after church. He'd change and then drive over to his mother's house for midday Sunday dinner; it would be pot roast and carrots and mashed potatoes, or baked chicken and dressing and sweet potatoes. I knew all that. I'd spent over four years learning this town and these people, making a place for myself here.
Before Jack and I even began our conversation, I knew I wasn't ready to leave. True, I had no family here in Shakespeare; true, I could clean houses as well in Dubuque (or Little Rock) as I could in Shakespeare. And true, my business had suffered a lot in the past year. But I'd won some kind of battle here in Shakespeare, and I wanted to stay, at least for now. I began to tense in anticipation of a fight.
"I don't have to live in Little Rock," Jack said. I deflated as though he'd stuck a pin in me.
"I do a lot of my work by computer anyway," he continued, looking at me intently. "Of course, I'd still need to be in Little Rock part of the time. I can keep my apartment up there, or find a smaller, cheaper one. That'd be more to the point."
We were being so careful with each other.
"So you want to live with me here in Shakespeare," I said, to be absolutely sure I was hearing him right.
"Yes," he said. "What do you think?"
I thought of what I'd done yesterday. I closed my eyes and wished a lightning bolt would hit me now, to prevent me from ever telling Jack. But that didn't happen. We'd always been honest with each other.
"I kissed someone else," I said. "I won't let you hit me, but if it'll help you feel better, you can break something."
"You kissed someone," he said.
I couldn't look at his face. "It was an after-funeral thing."
"You didn't go to bed with ... ?"
"No." Did I really need to elaborate? Hadn't I been honest enough? Yes, I decided.
I stole a glimpse at Jack. I saw Jack's face tighten. Instead of hitting something, he looked like he himself had been hit. He was gripping the edge of the table.
"Is this someone... would this happen again?" he asked finally, his voice very hoarse.
"No," I told him. "Never."
Gradually, his grip on the table relaxed. Gradually, his face looked human.
"How old are you, Lily?" he asked, out of the blue.
"Thirty-one," I said. "Thirty-two, soon."
"I'm thirty-six." He took a deep breath. "We've both been through some times."
I nodded. Our names still cropped up in the news every now and then. ("After a brutal gang rape mirroring that of Memphis resident Lily Bard's, a Pine Bluff woman was admitted to University Hospital..." or "Today Undercover Officer Lonny Todd was dismissed from the Memphis police force after charges he had an improper relationship with an informant. Todd is the latest in a string of dismissals in the past four years on similar charges, beginning with the firing of Officer Jack Leeds, whose relationship with the wife of a fellow officer led to her murder.")
"This is the best I've ever had it," Jack said. He was turning white as a sheet, but he went on. "You had a..." and he floundered there, stuck for a word.
"I had a moment of sheer stupidity."
"Okay." He smiled, and it wasn't a funny smile. "You had a moment of stupidity. But it won't ever happen again, because you said it wouldn't and you always keep your word."
I hadn't ever thought of myself as the epitome of honor, but it was true that I kept my word. I was trying not to be surprised that Jack was being so calm and level about this.
He seemed to be waiting.
"I said it wouldn't," I repeated. "And I always keep my word."
Jack seemed to relax just a little. He gave himself a little shake, picked up his fork and took a bite of his pancake. "Just don't ever tell me who," he said, not looking at me.
"You're getting so wise." Jack had a real problem with impulse control.
"It's taken me long enough." But his smile this time was a real smile. "So, you never answered me."
I took a deep breath. "Yes. I want you to move in. Do you think we'll have enough room here?"
"Could I put an office in the exercise room?"
A little stunned by how easily it had been settled, I nodded silently. I'd hung a punch-and-kick bag in the middle of the second bedroom. I could live without it. I'd use the kicking pads in the aerobics room at Body Time.
Then I tried to imagine Jack sharing my bathroom full-time. It was very small, and counter space was next to none. I wondered what we would do with his furniture. How would we divide the bills?
We had just complicated our lives enormously, and I was scared of the change. There were so many details to work out.
"You don't look very happy," Jack said. He was eyeing me from the other side of the table.
"But I am." I smiled at him, and he got that witless look on his face again. "I'm scared, too," I admitted. "Are you, a little?"
"Yeah," He confessed. "It's been a while."
"At least one of us has had prior experience. I've never done this."
Jack took a deep breath. "Would you rather just go on and get married?" he asked, every muscle in his body rigid. "That might be good, huh?"
I had to take my own deep breath while I groped for the right words to tell him what I felt. I hate explaining myself, and only the fact that I simply couldn't hurt Jack impelled me go through the discomfort of it.
"If it wasn't for other people, I would marry you today," I said slowly. "You know how happy the papers would be if they found out? You know how people would pat us on the backs and congratulate us? ‘Those two poor wounded souls, they've found each other.' "
Jack's face was beginning to collapse, so I hurried on with the rest. "But that's no reason for us to bypass any happiness we can have. You know what I would really like? I'd like to be married to you with not another soul in the world knowing about it, at least until it was old news."
Jack didn't know if I'd said yes or no. He was struggling to understand. I could tell by the way he learned toward me, his eyes focused on my face.
"It would be just for us," I said, sure I'd failed in what I was trying to convey. I had always been a private person.
"Married is what you would like?"
"Yes," I said, surprised at myself. "That's what I would like."
"To be kept secret?"
"Just for a while. I'd just like to get used to it before we told anyone."
"Now?"
"No." I shrugged. "Anytime. But they put the names of people who've applied for marriage licenses in the paper. How could we get around that? Providing you... ?" I felt very anxious as I waited for him to speak.
"Yes," he said slowly. "I'd like that, too." He looked sort of surprised to discover that he would, though. He put his hand over mine where it was resting on the table. "Soon," he finished.
I tried to imagine that Jack did not feel about me the way I felt about him. I tried picturing Jack tiring of me in a month or two, opting for some woman in Little Rock who was more convenient and less prickly. I projected myself into that position of pain and rejection.