Frank

December 9, 2016 (Cont'd)

After dark

It was an unbelievable display. My family and I walked into a huge barn, populated with picnic tables set up around a very large dance floor. Homemade centerpieces decorated each table. A kitchen along the right hand side was serving food that would make a vegetarian cry. The live band was playing at a reasonable volume, and I was grateful that we would be able to hear each other speak. The place was so packed that the entire farm might have shown up for it. But I knew that none of these things were what would impress my wife. I turned to see her reaction.

She gazed in awe at the display of Christmas lights. Red, green and white, some large like dyed Easter eggs, some small like multicolored fireflies. Strung like popcorn on the Christmas tree, cascading like a waterfall from the corners of the walls and all the way down to the floor. Her mouth open like an excited little girl, she slowly turned three hundred and sixty degrees, making sure she took it all in.

Joe nodded to me and headed toward the drink table, already eying a brunette that was sitting by herself. He'd explained to me earlier that he wanted to be in the near vicinity for the entirety of this weekend, but he wanted this dance to be just for me and my family.

"All right y'all, time for the country line dancing class! This will last for twenty minutes, and then from 7:00 to 11:00 tonight you take your own risks coming out on the dance floor!" The instructor took her place at the front of the room, turning around to reveal a backside that filled out her skirt nicely.

I waited until Nancy turned around once more to look at the lights. Not as nicely as my wife's did, I judged.

I turned around to head to the dance floor, and froze when I saw Aaron staring at me. I held my breath, trying to think of what I could possibly say, when his facial expression mercifully relaxed into a smirk.

"Well, I'm not going to fight you for her," he said, heading off to a corner of giggling girls.

"What? Oh, sorry, Frank," Nancy said apologetically, trailing Aaron with her eyes. "I can't believe he just did that when we only have today and tomorrow together. I'll bring him back."

I put a hand out to stop her. "No. This is perfect. I want memories of my son acting like a normal teenager, not just talking about his feelings with his old man."

She studied me. "How did your talk go with him in Terlingua this afternoon?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm glad I brought some Excedrin. But it was…good." Aaron had been very loud and quite opinionated, but he had been more generous to me than I'd deserved. Even though Nancy had made the decision for them not to join me, I had accepted it.

Nancy said nothing in response, but laid a hand on my arm and smiled. Oh, God, that smile. I don't think she realized what that smile did to me, especially after our kiss this afternoon. That kiss that might mean that we were on our way to a reconciliation…

By the time I'd recovered, it was too late to respond in kind. She bent down and kissed Reid's forehead, whispered some encouragements into his ear, and took his hand to lead him to dance class.

I followed them. I'd gone undercover as a backup dancer for a case ten years ago, and I found myself easing into the shuffles, struts, and pivot turns with a tenuous familiarity. By 7:15, when the dance class was over and the lights were down low and the band was turned up, I was prepared to keep up.

Nancy wasn't doing too badly, but I was secretly pleased when she frowned and studied my feet to see how she could improve. Reid knocked into me a few times and scurried shyly back to his mother, but I was grateful for any kind of contact I could have with him.

Periodically I checked to see how Aaron was doing—proud of his quick progress and self-confidence with females, but wary for the same reason—and once I saw him gaping at me in surprise. This old college professor's got moves you didn't expect, I thought with satisfaction. I noticed a cowgirl dancing just slightly too close to me, and I took Reid's hand, motioning for Nancy to take the other, and we danced with him between us.

Reid was obviously becoming frustrated with the complicated steps. I crouched down next to him. "I'd like to pick you up, if that's okay with you."

He looked at me suspiciously, but nodded. I lifted him up and continued the moves as best as I was able. Not too much later, the music slowed, and Nancy put her arms around both me and our son and we moved slowly and rhythmically.

A bit too rhythmically; before the song was halfway over, Reid was battling to stay awake. Finally he fell against my shoulder and his eyes stayed closed.

Nancy checked her watch. 8:12. "Past his bedtime," she mouthed. "I'll take him back to the cabin."

"I'll go with you," I responded quietly. "Not much fun dancing by myself."

She nodded and went to tell Aaron and Joe to meet us back at the cabin when they were finished. I realized suddenly that Aaron was the same age I was when he'd been conceived. I sent up a quick prayer that he could resist temptation better than I had.

Nancy returned, and the three of us exited the barn into a warm, starlit night. In a sudden spark of bravery, I took her hand as we walked, Reid bobbing against my shoulder. She didn't pull away. "Natural Christmas lights," I said, pointing to the stars, and she smiled.

We walked slower than necessary, prolonging the night, and entered our cabin. We kept the light off. I gently laid our four-year-old on the bed that he and Nancy shared.

"Let's sit on the porch," she mouthed. She moved toward the door, but heard Reid mumble, "Story."

Memories flooded back to me. Nancy looked almost alarmed. She gawked at me, nonplussed by the simple request.

"I'll read you a story," I said quietly. Nancy broke out of her trance and walked to Reid's bag of supplies, pulling out a book.

I lay down next to Reid, turning the small side lamp on and putting an arm around him. "The Very Hungry Caterpillar."

Reid snuggled closer to me, putting his thumb in his mouth. I read a few pages. "He started to look for some food. On Monday he ate through one apple. But he was still hungry."

Nancy came to the bed and sat on my other side. She took her shoes off.

"On Tuesday, he ate through two pears. But he was still hungry."

Nancy swung her feet onto the bed. She hesitatingly put a hand on my arm.

I stiffened, acutely aware of her touch. "On Wednesday, he ate through three plums."

Nancy nestled her head against my shoulder as I read.

"But he was still hungry," I said, my voice now slightly shaky. "On Thursday, he ate through four strawberries."

She found a few chest hairs that were sticking out of my shirt and rubbed them between her fingers. She inhaled deeply at the base of my neck, the area where I daily applied my English Leather cologne.

"But he was still hungry."

Nancy's lips brushed against my neck.

Dropping the book, I looked at Reid, then climbed hastily off at the foot of the bed. "He's asleep," I mouthed to Nancy, who was gazing at me sleepily, bemusedly. "I'll see you in the morning, Nancy." I quietly shut the door.

I walked gingerly to my bedroom next to hers and shut the door. I slowly, carefully unzipped my jeans to relieve the discomfort, then pulled them down to my knees and sat down on the edge of my bed. Resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, I willed myself to think of every sweaty, hairy truck driver I'd ever seen. I didn't want to finish this night like a frustrated teenager.

I looked up in alarm as Nancy abruptly opened my door, then shut it quietly behind her. Grateful that I'd kept the light off, I grabbed for my sheets. Nancy ignored me, walking straight to the small window on the far right side of my bed and opening it widely. I stared at her in bewilderment. My detective brain put it together just as she approached the bed.

Aaron and Joe wouldn't be able to see us, but we would be able to hear them when they walked up the path to the cabin.

I took off my shoes, and she motioned for me not to undress any further. We had to be able to look presentable quickly.

I lay back on the bed and she straddled me. I lifted her skirt and skimmed her thighs, quickly ascertaining both that she had nothing underneath her skirt and that she was ready for me. The next moment I swore loudly, sitting upright in shock at the searing pleasure, now so unfamiliar to me.

She covered my mouth. I had a sudden flashback of Nancy in the van, and paused in agonizing indecision. "I'm fine, Frank," she whispered, then pushed my shoulders back down onto the bed. She took control, moving quickly, deliberately. My facial features slackened as the pressure began to build, and I focused on the silhouette of her straight hair swaying back and forth. We made love quietly, parentally, listening both for the sound of footsteps outside the cabin and for movement in the adjacent bedroom. But years of abstinence had left me unprepared, and I finished quite early with a flush of embarrassment.

She transitioned into forceful, frenzied kisses. Our hands began to explore, first excitedly and then tenderly. "Frank," she whispered once, and soon I was ready again. This time I stood up, pulling her to the edge of the bed. I paused for a moment with her legs wrapped around my waist, willing myself to remember this moment forever. This time I focused on pleasing my wife.

Afterward, exhausted, she settled back into the middle of the bed. She opened her arms for me, and my throat tightened at the simple gesture of love. I settled on top of her, propped up on my elbows. I caressed a thumb against her cheek. She looked up at me and scraped her fingernails lightly down my back. Two quick kisses, and her expression changed.

Nancy sat up slowly. She smoothed her hair. She edged to the side of the bed as I felt my heart squeeze with pain once more. The moonlight briefly reflected off her cheeks, stained with tears, and she was gone. I heard the door to her room open and close.

I stared at the ceiling to process what had just happened. Then I considered that I might have a lot of time alone in my future to process, but I would only be in Texas for another thirty-six hours.

I pulled on pajama pants and made the bed. I walked out to the common room and put the light on. I started a small pot of water boiling on the stove. Then I walked to Nancy's door and gently tested the knob. It was unlocked.

I followed the sound of her sniffling to the foot of the bed. "I'm making tea," I whispered. "I won't touch you. I just want to spend some time with you."

She came out immediately. I sent up a quick prayer of thanks, then felt guilty about praying considering my recent behavior. Well. We were married.

We walked over to the stove and I handed her an empty mug. "Please don't regret what we just did," I said. "It was precious to me. And it doesn't decide anything. I'm not expecting anything to be different now."

"Thank you," Nancy whispered. "It's still going to be a very hard road ahead for all of us, no matter what we decide to do. And, Frank…now we're facing a possible third unplanned pregnancy."

My jaw dropped. I started to laugh. It was infectious, and soon we were holding our sides with laughter, trying unsuccessfully to cover each other's mouths. It was interrupted only by the whistle of the kettle, and we were forced to keep our hands steady or risk scalding ourselves.

After applying appropriate amounts of sugar, I held the screen door open for her. We sat on the front porch and waited for our older son and my brother.

"Look at that moon," she said admiringly. "Things always seemed easier, knowing that you were somewhere looking at that same moon. As clichéd as that is."

It was my turn for my eyes to blur with tears. "Say whatever clichés you want to me, as long as they're true," I said. "Nancy, I'm tired of hearing stories about our children through my brother. I want to hear them from you. Tell me about the boys."

And she did.