His long legs made for a quick stride to the front door, where a stout boy in his late teens was waiting on the other side.
"Delivery for...a...Mrs. Darmody," the youth read.
He paused briefly mid sentence to glance down at the clipboard in his hand and Richard couldn't help but wonder whether it was done purely to confirm he was at the correct address or out of shock so he didn't have to look at his face. Perhaps both.
"She's not in. At the moment," he lied (she was always in-she just never wanted to be disturbed). "I'll take it."
The boy nodded and handed over both the medium sized box he was holding as well as the clipboard.
"Just need your John Hancock right there."
The soldier obliged and made his way to Gillian's office in the back of the house. A slight resolute knock, followed by an irritated, "Yes?", and he was standing before her.
Gillian was perched at her desk, grimly looking over the ledger. She knew the sound of his breathing by heart, and didn't bother to look up for at least a minute. When she finally did she looked almost amused.
"Why Richard," she started demurely, "that's quite a large package you have there. Is it for me?"
"Yes. It came. This morning."
"This morning? Really...hmm. I thought it came last night. Though...it could have been very early in the morning."
She drew the corners of her ruby lips up in a satisfied grin and batted her lashes ever so slightly before continuing.
"It certainly took a long time to come, but it was worth waiting for."
Richard clenched his jaw and said nothing. He met her eager gaze, the silence making her ever more annoyed by the second.
"Well, Richard?"
Still nothing.
She sighed audibly and rolled her eyes.
"Imbecile," she muttered, though loud enough for him to hear.
What she was too headstrong to realize was that Richard knew exactly what she was referring to.
The audacity of that woman! He knew what they did in the dark of night. He hated himself for it. But he wasn't about to discuss it. Own it, put a name to it? No.
It was carnal and it was angry. But it brought with it the release that they each so desperately needed both for the same reason as well as very different reasons.
Jimmy's absence left a hole so deep and wide there was no other way to even try to fill it up. Sometimes he wondered what his friend would think of it, as if he could see them. Sometimes he'd grunt apologies in the midst of plunging into her.
'I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry."
She, of course, thought he was speaking to her. Self absorbed bitch.
The drumming of her fingernails called him back to attention and she cocked her head.
"I just. Signed for it," he finally said.
"I see."
He approached the desk and gingerly placed the box atop her book.
"Anything else?" she hissed.
He shook his head.
"That will be all," Gillian dismissed him. "Close the door behind you."
She waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before reaching for her letter opener. She drove it into the tape and slit across the top of the cardboard. With glee she reached inside, pulling out a brown leather riding crop. She firmly squeezed the handle with one hand; the delicate fingers of her other playing with the tassels.
"Yes, Richard," she devilishly, "that will be all...for now."