Jack Raydor wasn't necessarily a violent man. At least, not toward others. He may have been a prankster and had a pension for the poison, but he always meant well in his pursuits. Bounding up the stairs the only way he knows how, the man flexes his knuckles against the door.
Sharon Raydor picks her head up, knowing only one person to ever knock that way. She rolls her eyes, rising from her seat on the sofa and gingerly walking to the front door, opening it enough to look at the man on the other side, "Hello, Jackson."
The man before her grins broadly, "Sweetknees, mind if I stay the night?"
"You smell like cheap whiskey and I have no place for you here any longer."
"Hey now, what kind of bullshit is that?" He pushes his way into the condo, "You always keep the spare bedroom ready for me if I need it."
"What happened to Alcoholics Anonymous?" Sharon folds her arms over her chest, watching the man, closing the door behind him. This is how he always is when he's drunk.
"I went." Jack nods, looking to her, "Why can't I stay?"
"I told you about Rusty. That is his room now." She nods, "I asked you a question."
"And I said I went." He glances back to his wife, "Damn, Shar, haven't aged a damn bit. How do you do that?"
"No, do not attempt to flatter me now." Sharon watches him, studying his face and noticing a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his upper lip, "What happened?" She moves over him, placing a gentle hand up to assess the wound.
Jack lets her touch him. After being married for twenty-five years, you learn what gets to people, "I'm fine, Sharon."
"Tell me what happened." She tilts her head to the side to catch his eye, "Please."
"I had a disagreement with a guy." He offers her a wry smile.
"A disagreement or a fight?"
"Well...it certainly had potential."
Sharon raises an eyebrow, "Let's put some ice on this." She takes his large hand into her own. More rough than she remembers, "And you dyed your hair blonde?"
"Yeah. Lost a bet." Jack watches her, his voice, though subtle, was always able to touch her core.
"Why doesn't that surprise me..." Sharon reaches into the freezer, retrieving the ice pack and wrapping a kitchen dish cloth around it before placing it on his cheekbone.
He smirks, "Same could be said for you. I seem to remember the boy telling me about you throwing a conniption fit when you found your first gray hair." He chuckles from the back of his throat, low and steady, "That was when he was talking to me."
"I see." She nods, "Do you honestly blame them, Jackson?"
"Nah." Jack sighs heavily, watching her, "So, the other kid. He alright?"
"In what way are you referring?"
He shrugs, "I mean, is he trouble? Why is he here?"
"Jack, I told you about this the last time we talked." Sharon shakes her head, pulling out the first aid kit.
"I don't remember." Jack began to chuckle, "Shit, Sharon, I barely remember a few hours ago and you're talking about a conversation we had...how long ago?"
"A year."
"A year ago.
She sighs, "You might remember more if you didn't drink so much." Sharon sighs heavily, looking to the pitiful man before her, "Why can't you stay at-"
"I ain't got no money, Sharon." He grumbles. Jackson Raydor always seems to be this way, especially when drinking. His law degree fails him, "Can't get a room. Couldn't even pay my rent."
"You're homeless?" Sharon raises her eyebrows.
"I can get it back. Need to take a few cases, but I'll get it back. They know me well. They'll wait."
She shakes her head slowly, "You can sleep on the sofa."
"Can't the kid sleep on the sofa?" Jack picks his head up, "Don't know if my back can take it."
"What was once the guest bedroom, and I use the term guest very seriously, is now Rusty's bedroom. His clothes and personal things are in that room. It is no longer open for guest use. However, you may sleep on my sofa."
He looks to her, somberly nodding, "Thanks, Sharon."
Sharon is quiet for a moment, studying him, "I wish you would just bite the bullet, Jack. I want you to get better." She leans in, kissing his temple, "I'm going to bed. Have whatever you'd like in the refrigerator except for the content within the brown paper bags and the cans of soda next to them. If you need me...you know where to find me."
Jack looked over his shoulder, able to see her saunter off. Her beauty has never wavered in his eyes. She didn't look much different from the day he met her twenty-six years ago. A different hairstyle and color, sure, her body is still taught though. Even with the small belly the years of having his children given her. He has always found each of her imperfections incredibly sexy. Rising from his place at the kitchen bar, he walks into the living room, removing his jacket. It could be ninety degrees out and he'd still wear his tan field jacket. He tosses it onto the nearby chair. Standing there a moment, he brings his hand to his chin, rubbing the palm against the stubble. "She's right." He whispers to himself, sitting on the sofa cushion before lying back, "Shit." He hisses, lying there a few minutes before getting up.
Sharon slips into a sheer, pink silk nightgown. Sleeveless with a black lace hem that rests in the middle of her thigh. She's always found them comfortable since she was married and now that Rusty was a part of her life, she usually wrapped herself in a robe or her usual oversized black cashmere cardigan. She picks the novel she's been reading up from her bedside table, turning to the page with the curved golden bookmark poking out. Slipping her glasses back onto her face, she settles back against the padded headboard of her bed.
Jack knocks softly before opening the door, "Hey."
She knew he would try. Sharon doesn't look up to him, her face still in her book, "Yes?"
"Would you, uh...The couch is real uncomfortable. Would you mind if we were to bunk up tonight?"
Sharon slowly glances to him, looking above her glasses, "Jack, what did I tell you?"
"Yeah, I know that, but I'm no spring chicken." He shakes his head, "I won't even touch you if you don't want me to."
"That's what I'm afraid of." She mumbles looking back to her book.
Jack raises an eyebrow, "The hell you talking about?" He shakes his head, "Shar, we used to share a bed for..."
"You really can't remember how long we were together before-"
"Five years. I know how long we were together...before the separation at least. I still wear the ring."
"Yes, why is that?" Sharon slips the bookmark back between the pages, realizing she isn't going to get much reading done. She places the book back on the table, removing her glasses with her other hand.
"Because we're still married." Jack nods slowly, "And I've never stopped loving you."
She attempts to keep herself from rolling her eyes, knowing that he was attempting to flatter her so that he could sleep in her bed with her, "When was the last time you had a shower?"
He watches her, then shrugs.
"Go take one. You still have some clothes here, I'll get them from the hallway closet, where they have been in a bag." Sharon watches him, motioning to the bathroom with her hand, "I know it is a bit late, but until you get one, you are not getting into this bed. Period."
Jack watches her a moment, "Towels in there?"
"Of course."
He sighs, trudging from the room. He knows he must indulge her with this, he even grossed himself out a bit. After taking the shower, he wrapped the towel around his waist, "Axe body wash?" He asks her as he re-enters the room.
"Rusty likes it. I'm not arguing with him if it means he takes a shower regularly." Sharon shakes her head, pointing to the clothes at the end of the bed, "I'll wait in the hall while you change."
"Nah, just close your eyes a moment. I trust you."
She nods slowly, taking in one last look of his body. After their separation, there weren't any times to see one another or how each other was changing and aging. The years combined with his habitual use of alcohol, were not kind to him. Sharon almost feels bad for him.
Jack smirks, able to feel her stare, "Care if I sleep in the boxers?"
"No, that's fine." Sharon offers him a soft smile, then placing her hand over her already closed eyes, "As long as it's okay if I wear this to you."
"Your bed, your rules." He nods, "Besides, you look sensatable. Why wouldn't I want to see all I can of you?"
She blushes, slowly sliding under the covers more, "Get into bed, Jakcson."
"Like old times, Shar." Jack waves his eyebrows.
Sharon pauses, "This time, you can't get me pregnant and leave again to live in Las Vegas."
"I can't change the past, I've apologized as many-"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't do that." She shakes her head, "It has been quite a while since I've had someone in bed with me."
"Oh." Jack sighs, "I'll try the couch again. Maybe it will-"
"I wasn't saying anything about that." She watches as sits on the other side of the bed, "It will be nice for a change." She reaches up, turning off the bedside lamp.
He smirks, "Can I hold you, Shar?"
Sharon remains quiet for a few minutes, attempting to decide.
"You sleeping?"
"You may...you may hold me." Her voice seems quiet, almost shy in some ways.
Jack slides under the silk covers, "How do you not slide off these things?" He smirks, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
Sharon can feel her eyes begin to burn from tears. Over twenty years since they've done this. Twenty years of being alone and a single mother racing through her head. Sure, Jack was a great father, when he was there. Those times came far and few between and Sharon had to pull it together those times not to just scream at him when they were in the same room. She sniffles.
"You alright?" His gruff voice rumbles in her ear, causing her to shiver slightly, which he is able to feel under his fingertips.
She hastily turns in his arms to face him, leaning in to kiss his lips passionately. Pulling back to look into his eyes, barely visable through the darkness of the rest of the room.
"The hell was that for?" Jack wasn't angry, just surprised. He pulls her closer, kissing along her jaw.
"I don't know." Sharon mumbles, "Stop...just hold me."
"We'll talk about it in the morning." He kisses her hairline, "I love you, Shar."
"Love you too, Jack." She closes her eyes, placing her head against her chest. Sleeping the most sound she has in years.