The phone rang on her desk. Stretching, she grabbed it, feeling the pinch in her back. Getting bigger every day.
"The Red Fox, this is Elsie Hughes," she said crisply.
"Els? It's Becky."
"Beck?" Elsie was surprised. After she went to Lexington, they hadn't talked much. And never during the week. "Is something wrong?"
"No…I just thought I'd ring, see how you were doing."
"Oh. Well, I'm fine." There was an awkward pause. "Have you talked to Beryl recently?"
"Yes. She…she told me about Charles."
"Ah." Now we come to the point.
"Why didn't he just give Alice the cabin? It's not like he can't find somewhere else to live."
"It's not that simple," Elsie leaned on her elbow. In her heart, she agreed with Becky, but she also saw the larger picture. "He offered her the house, which he didn't have to do. And a generous alimony. But she insists on getting the cabin. She's never cared about it, hasn't been there in years-"
"Isn't it more important that he divorce her? That's what he wants, isn't it?" A note of accusation crept into Becky's voice.
"Of course it is," Elsie said, feeling defensive. "But he doesn't want to give her everything. He shouldn't have to."
"Shouldn't he? She didn't ask for the divorce-"
"Whose side are you on?" Her temper flared. "If you called to tell me how awful I am, save your breath."
"Els, I-"
She slammed down the phone, feeling the tears coming. Enduring the local gossip was one thing. But hearing it from Becky was too much.
You knew there would be a price to pay.
She hoped it would not be too high.
0000000000000000
Thirteen months previously
After they began the affair the previous autumn, both had been racked by guilt. It was compounded by Alice's continued absence, then unintentionally by Beryl. When their friend heard that Charles would be alone on Thanksgiving (John and Anna had invited him, and he had refused), she insisted he come to the Patmore family gathering.
Which included Elsie.
A day spent trying to avoid each other while simultaneously enjoying the holiday was unbearable. They were both keenly aware that Beryl watched them like a hawk.
Then Alice returned, just in time for Christmas.
Their affair was interrupted. But while it had lasted, it was torrid.
They had talked about what to do. Charles was hesitant to tell Elsie that he wanted to try again with Alice; she already knew. Their mutual guilt and her wanting him to remain honorable meant they parted.
For the time being.
Elsie did not want to let him go, but she did. It hurt more than she had thought possible. She escaped to Lexington, then to Chicago for the holidays.
Charles told himself it was for the best. His vows meant something. He tried once again to talk to Alice, express his frustrations. She blew them off.
The first three months of the New Year were hell.
Charles lost weight after gaining much of it back. Elsie reverted to her new bad habit of chewing her nails. She managed, barely, to keep her temper in check.
Their joint punishment ended when Alice decided to leave again, at the beginning of April. Within days of her leaving, the affair was resumed.
Early on a Tuesday morning in May, Elsie woke in Charles's arms.
We should be ashamed. We should be feeling like…I don't know, like we need to go to confession.
If anyone needs confessing, it's us.
It wasn't that she didn't feel guilty. She did.
It was simply absorbed by overwhelming happiness, of feeling utterly content.
He breathed deeply into her hair. "What time is it?" Holding her firmly against his bare chest, he dropped a soft kiss on her shoulder, then her neck. He hoped he had time before he'd have to get up.
"Mmmmm," she breathed. "Not quite seven." She reached for his watch on the side table. "6:42."
"Good," he murmured. "I'm not ready to get up yet."
Rolling over to face him, she smiled. "Why? Did you want to sleep a while longer?"
He smiled back. Without warning, he pulled her onto him, her knees straddling his hips. She gasped. It was one thing to make love in the dark, but in the light of day she felt exposed. Her skin flushed red and she looked down at him, rather shy.
He gazed at her like she was the only woman on earth.
It astounds me how she can be so confident and alluring, and then embarrassed by how she looks.
"Do you have any idea," he whispered, his fingers caressing her cheek, "how divinely beautiful you are? You are not a woman, Elsie. You are a goddess."
She couldn't think of a suitable response to that. So she kissed him on the mouth, holding nothing back. He held nothing back either. If anything, his touches and caresses inflamed her more than the night before. Again and again he brought her to the brink of pleasure without completing it. By the time he finally did, she was nearly weeping with desire. He cried out her name with increasing repetition. His pleasure was evident.
He knew he should feel guilty. That he was married to someone else, if increasingly only in name. That he should think about Elsie's reputation. But when she was in his arms, he seemed to lose all reason. As did she.
He had never thought of himself as an exceptional lover. Alice, when she wanted him, had always made him feel like he was never quite good enough.
Not Elsie.
He lay with her in his arms, kissing her slowly. Shaking, she was still coming down from her high. He cupped her face in his hands. "Are you all right, my darling?"
Unable to speak, she nodded, turning her face to kiss his fingers. He drew her down so her head was under his chin. He stroked her back as their breathing returned to normal. They were quiet for several minutes, resting in each other's arms.
She felt both powerful and vulnerable: the former, because of his physical reaction to her; the latter because never had a lover drawn out such uninhibited passion from her.
It was strange to feel so safe, yet be so frightened at the same time.
He suddenly moved, raising up on his elbows. "Sometimes I wonder," he whispered, "why of anyone, you chose me." She still lay across him, her face close to his. "You could have any man you wanted."
She glanced away, her face warm. She had heard similar compliments before, but she had never believed them.
But she believed him.
"I don't want 'any' man," she breathed. "I want you." She slid forward, relishing the feel of skin on skin. They kissed until they were interrupted by a loud rumble. She giggled into his mouth. He sighed.
"You should have let me get you something to eat," she said, rubbing his shoulder. She slid off of him as he stretched.
"And let you out of bed? That would defeat the purpose," he said, wagging his eyebrows. He threw the covers back and rummaged in the wardrobe for clean clothes. "I'm going to shower. Please don't feel like you have to get up right away, it's your day off." He grinned and gave her a quick kiss.
She sank back into the pillows, enjoying the view of his naked form. Breathing deeply, she smelled his scent and hers on the blankets, the co-mingled fragrance of their lovemaking.
A sudden thought floated through her mind, making her heart skip several beats.
I love him.
For the first time she felt as though she had something to lose.