She never once thought he was faithful, and she didn't know why he thought this revelation was going to hurt her. But his brain was working hard to find things to do to her and say to her that would hurt, humiliate, and cause her to question her own worth and integrity. He thought if he called her bitch, whore, and slut long enough, she'd start to believe it. If he told her he'd castrated Keith, she might believe it. When he told her he wanted to fuck her sister, it did make her angry and anxious. When he used the belt on her, she felt defeated and powerless, but through the agony, she maintained whatever dignity she could, and the beatings strengthened her resolve to keep her sanity.
She said, "Can I get my blanket now and get something to eat?"
"You was naked when I found you in the motel, and you can stay naked." He got off the sofa and pulled up his shorts and trousers.
"Please, Cliff, I'm cold and hungry. I have to go to the bathroom."
"Yeah? Okay, you can stand."
She stood and, without him giving her permission, she wrapped the blanket around her.
"Let's go," he said.
"Can't I go alone?"
"No way, sweetheart. Go on."
She walked past the kitchen, down a short hallway, and turned into the bathroom.
Baxter sat on the rim of the tub, while she sat on the toilet seat and urinated, avoiding his eyes. She wiped herself with tissue paper, stood, and walked back into the hallway, the chain keeping her from taking the long strides she wanted to take. She turned into the kitchen, but he moved past her and stood in front of the refrigerator. He asked her, "What's a whore eat besides strange cocks?"
She took a deep breath and replied, "I'd like something hot. I can get it."
"You eat what I give you. Sit down, if your butt don't hurt too much, or you can stand, or get on the floor, and I'll get the dog dish like last time."
She went to the small table and lowered herself gently onto the wooden chair, with the blanket draped around her shoulders.
He opened the refrigerator and put two slices of bread on a paper plate, then a few slices of mixed cold cuts, and threw it on the table. "Eat."
She began eating the bread and cold cuts while he watched. She didn't eat fast, but took her time, though she was so hungry, she felt faint.
He took a beer for himself from the refrigerator and put a container of milk in front of her with no glass. He sat across from her and said, "You ain't gettin' no more, so don't ask."
Annie thought it was time to engage him in some normal conversation. He seemed calmed down, self-satisfied, and he might give her some information. She tried to adopt a pleasant tone of voice, as if nothing unusual had happened, as if he hadn't just beaten and raped her. She asked, "How much food do we have, Cliff?"
"Enough for two or three months. Ain't gonna be much fresh stuff left after a week. But I got cans and dried food. Plenty of beer."
"Then what?"
"Then I can go into town and get more. Why? You got someplace you got to be?"
"I just want to know how long it's going to be before we can go home."
"You are home, honey buns."
"I mean to our house in Spencerville."
"Why do you want to go there?"
"I just thought we'd spend some time there."
He smiled. "Yeah? I don't think so. We're retired now, sweetheart. Gonna get that house sold."
"All right. I guess that's a good idea." She didn't want to drink from the container, but she did, then asked casually, "When can I make a few phone calls?"
He looked at her. "When you start feelin' sorry for what you did."
"I am sorry, Cliff. I'm sorry it happened. When will you forgive me?"
"Never. But I might decide someday to go easy on you. But we got a long way to go before that day gets here."
She nodded, knowing that day would never come. It was dangerous, she knew, to remind him that their children couldn't be put off too much longer, that they'd want to come to Grey Lake for Thanksgiving, or Christmas at the latest. Then there was her family, her sister, her parents, and his family. But to remind him that there was an outside world that had to be reckoned with might send him off the deep end. However, she'd already broached that subject by mentioning phone calls, and she could tell he was brooding over this. She said, "If I can call a few people, they wouldn't wonder where we were. I'll say we're back from Florida, and..."
"You let me worry about that. Maybe next week, or the week after. Far as anybody is concerned, we're on a second honeymoon in Florida. I don't have to report to nobody. I'm on extended leave of absence, and it's my fucking business where I am, not nobody else's. The kids ain't kids no more, and they got their own lives and don't give a shit about us. I'll call them now and then."
She nodded. "Okay." She looked at him and said, "Cliff, you really made me pay for what I did, and I got everything I deserved. So why don't we just pretend that nothing happened and go back to Spencerville? You know that you want to go back to the job, to finish out your next few years. I promise you that I've learned how to treat you, and I'm very... sorry for what I've done, and it will never happen again. You're all the man I need." She watched him closely, and she could see that she was actually getting through to him and that he was thinking about it. She continued, "There's no reason to stay here too long. Whatever I learned here, how to satisfy you and make you happy, I can do in Spencerville. If we go back in a few weeks, we don't have to answer a lot of questions. Okay?"
He stayed silent for a full minute, then stood but said nothing. He looked at her, and she stood also, drawing the blanket tightly around her. They faced each other, and she could see he was fighting some inner battle. She didn't know how much of his behavior was a result of rage and how much was psychopathic. But the fact that he hadn't gotten any calmer, and in fact had gotten worse in the last three days, frightened her.
Finally, he smiled and said in a pleasant voice, "Sounds like you want to go back to the way we were, except better."...
"I do."
"That must mean you love me. You wouldn't want to do all those nice things for a man you didn't love."
"No, I wouldn't."
He asked her, "Do you love me?"
She didn't reply.
"Say you love me."
She knew she should say it, just to say it, otherwise he'd know for certain that everything she'd already told him was a lie.
"Tell me you love me."
"I don't."
"I didn't think so. But I love you."
"If you loved me, you wouldn't do this to me."
"I haven't done nothing to you that you didn't have coming. Did I ever treat you like this before you went and spread your legs for somebody else? Did I?"
"You... no, you didn't."
"See? You just don't like payin' the price. You don't like takin' responsibility for your own actions. That's what's wrong with you women. Always lookin' for a free ride, a pass, a way out with no sweat on your part. You pulled that shit in Spencerville. You ain't gettin' off so easy here."
"Neither are you."
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
She didn't reply.
"You want another strappin'?"
"No."
"I'll bet not. So you don't love me. But you will. And when you finally say it, you're gonna mean it. Really mean it, from deep down inside of you. You're gonna say, 'Cliff, I love you.' And I'll tell you what — if I had my lie detector machine here, it would tell me that you're tellin' the God's honest truth. But I don't need the machine, sweetheart, 'cause when the day comes, I'll know it, and so will you."
"Never."
"Remember you said that. Meantime, be thankful I still love you, 'cause the minute I don't, you're dead. When you say your prayers tonight, pray that I still love you in the mornin'."