About a week later, Henry had an assignment that was going to keep him away for a couple of days. The day before he left, he asked her again and again if she was going to be OK. The fifth time, she turned to him and put her hands on his shoulders.
"Of course I will, silly," she said, and her smile was more confident than she was. "I'm going to be just fine. Don't worry about me."
"Lock all the doors…"
"…And check all the windows. I know. It's OK, Henry, it really is."
He searched her eyes, and relaxed a little.
"OK. But you call me if anything happens. I'll have my cell on all the time."
"So will I," she replied. "You call me too, OK?"
He pulled her into his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. "Yes, ma'am." She stuck out her tongue, and he grinned.
As she watched the old truck rumble away, Eileen felt an emptiness she hadn't felt in a long time. She missed him. She puttered aimlessly around the townhouse for the rest of the day, ate a quiet dinner, and fell asleep over her book in bed.
That first night, Eileen slept well.
The next day passed uneventfully…she ran errands, sent off a couple of resumes, and mailed a birthday card to her cousin in California. She ate her solitary dinner in front of the TV.
She woke in a sweat in the dead of night, heart pounding. The house was quiet, but she rechecked everything and looked in the closets before going back to bed.
The next afternoon, the old truck rumbled back up to the house. Henry was tired and unshaven and dirty, but happy, very happy.
"It was fantastic out there," he told her as he carried his bag in. "I camped out by the river, and I got the most amazing pictures. I can't wait to show you."
He embraced her tightly.
"I missed you," he said into her hair.
Eileen wriggled in mock protest. "I missed you too," she said, "but you stink."
Henry released her. "Sorry," he said. He looked down at his grimy jacket and jeans. "I guess I need to clean up a little. But it was worth it. I should make some good money from this job."
"If you go wash, we can get some dinner from Luigi's to celebrate, and then we're going to need some good beer."
Henry grinned. "I almost forgot." He headed back out to the truck and returned with two plastic bags, which he handed to her. One held a couple of six-packs of their favorite microbrew, and the smell of garlic and tomatoes from the other was unmistakable.
"Great minds think alike," he said.
Eileen opened the second bag. "What's this?"
Henry peered in. "The girl gave me a stromboli today," he said. "I didn't ask for it, but she insisted. Free. Said we'd like it."
"She thinks you're cute," Eileen said.
Henry stared at her.
"She told me once. Let me guess…she asked where I was and you told her that you were surprising me with dinner, right?"
"Yeah."
"There you are. She thought it was a sweet thing to do, and threw that in. And she's right."
"Told you I'd missed you," Henry said, wrapping his arms around her from the back.
"Guess that means we're in for the night," she said.
"Damn right."
A few hours later, the sun had set, and a clean Henry sat with Eileen on the couch watching TV. The food was all in their stomachs, and the remaining space therein was gradually being filled by excellent beer.
"You'd think that with all these channels, there would be something on," Eileen said, as Henry clicked "channel up" for the umpteenth time. "But TV sucks tonight."
"Yeah, it's pretty bad," Henry nodded. "Hang on a minute," he said, clicking back to the previous channel.
She saw their old apartment building. It stood vacant, for a moment, as if fixed in time. She could just see the balcony outside her old room, same as it always was. Then with a large puff of dust, the whole building collapsed in on itself as if in slow motion.
"Turn it up," she said quickly.
"…shfield Heights was demolished today, more than two weeks after the horrific events that took place inside its walls. According to the police, the building has had a long and eventful history, but the recent unusual happenings have caused it to be declared uninhabitable. Still no sign of its superintendent, Frank Sunderland, who has been missing since that night. In other news…"
Henry turned the channel again. Some loud guy in a loud jacket wanted to sell them a car, it seemed.
"At least nothing will ever happen to anyone else in there," she said.
"I'm glad it's gone," he said. "I'm sorry. I know you liked it there."
Eileen sighed. "It's hard to see it go," she said, "but it's for the best."
He reached for her hand, and squeezed it.
"This channel usually runs movies around now," he said.
Sure enough, they'd stumbled across a really old monster movie.
"I think it just started," Eileen said.
"That's more like it," Henry said. He pointed at the screen. "Check it out. I bet if those guys turned around, you could see the zippers in their rubber suits."
Eileen laughed. "I've seen ones where the heads had big shoelaces tying them together in the back."
"I saw one once in which the aliens looked just like humans, but with these big hooked noses. I swear they looked like chickens."
"Really? Are you serious?"
"There are some things that are far too important to not joke about. Really bad movies are one of those things." Henry nodded sagely.
Eileen grinned. "Amen to that."
They spent the next two hours laughing at the movie, then heckling it. When it ended, another one started, so they kept right on going. And going. The beer dwindled.
"This...is...CRAP," Henry growled. He was seated on the floor, having slid down off the couch some time before. Eileen lay behind him on the couch, giving him a neckrub. "They must have blown the budget on the damn titles."
He waggled a finger vaguely at the TV screen. "What I don't get is, am I really supposed to believe that that little tin can can travel through space AND time? With a firecracker up its - "
"Oh...oh...ohmyGod," Eileen gasped, doubling over in laughter. "It looks like a piece of pipe or something. Those effects really aren't that special..."
"And those spacesuits are unbelievable. Flimsy. There's no way they'd stand up to zero pressure."
"Zero pressure? Geek," Eileen said, prodding him in the back with her bottle.
"No, I'm just observant," Henry said. "They'd have to be internally pressurized – "
"Oh God…look," Eileen interrupted, pointing at the TV. "Flying monkeys. In space. Even Walter's hell didn't have flying monkeys. In space."
"No," Henry said quietly, and Eileen realized what she'd just said. She moved forward and put her chin on his shoulder.
"Anyway, it's kinda like the Wizard of Oz, but even lower-budget," she said. She felt him relax.
"Yeah. No kidding. Cheap-ass monkey suits."
"And the flying isn't even well-done. They look like they're just hanging there. They could at least pull them across the screen or something."
"YOU CAN SEE THE GODDAMN WIRES!" Henry yelled, waving his half-empty bottle at the TV.
"And the lousy matte painting. You're going to wake the neighbors," Eileen said, swaying toward him, "and you're going to dump beer on the carpet." Her arm waved ineffectively over his shoulder.
"Ah, don't worry, I'll clean it up tomorrow."
"Screw the mess. It's a waste of good beer," she replied, and grabbed the beer, still in his hand. She brought hand, beer and all to her mouth, and took a gulp of it, wiping her mouth with the back of her other hand afterwards.
She stopped suddenly. Henry had frozen in place. He turned to face her, and his other hand came up to hers, which was still wrapped around his hand and the bottle. His fingers traced hers from tip to knuckle, and stroked lightly across the back of her hand. The jolt traveled through her like an electric current.
He said nothing for a while, but kept on stroking her hand, staring at it as if nothing else existed. The movie droned on behind him.
"I…" he began. "'Leen, last night, I dreamt…"
"Shhh," she said. This wasn't going anywhere good.
"No, no, listen," he said, his voice rising. "I dreamt that we were back in that place again. In the room with Walter and the spinning blades in the blood. And you were walking toward them, but I couldn't get the spears out of the walls. They were stuck, even after I put the umbilical cord back into him." His voice was rising. "I pulled and pulled, but they were stuck, and I couldn't get them out, and you kept walking, and Walter kept shooting me, and I couldn't get them out of the walls…"
He was breathing hard, fighting for control, too far gone to stop himself. Then, a long hiccupping breath escaped him. She pulled him to her and rocked him as he babbled like a little child.
"I couldn't DO anything, and you kept walking, and you walked right into the blades and you were chopped up into little pieces. I heard you scream, heard everything, and Walter laughed and it was too late and you were dead and I didn't care any more whether he killed me or not. Then I woke up."
Eileen rocked Henry some more.
"I had the same dream," she said simply.
Henry stared at her in shock.
"You had the same dream? How?"
"It was just a dream, Henry. It's not real."
He grabbed her hands.
"Eileen…it could have been. It could have happened so easily."
"But it didn't, Henry."
"But it could have." His eyes were unfocused. "When I was out there yesterday and the day before, I thought about you. Whenever I saw something beautiful or unusual, I kept wanting to tell you about it, but I couldn't. You weren't there."
Eileen nodded. "I know that feeling."
"A month ago, I didn't think that I'd ever have anyone to tell. Anybody, ever. I had nobody, nothing..."
She smiled. "Me too. But not any more. Everything's different now. We're here, Henry, you and me, and Walter's gone." She could tell that he was only half listening, that she wasn't getting through to him…
She put her hand on his shoulder. He grasped it like a lifeline. Her other hand stroked his cheek.
His eyes met hers. They were dilated to near blackness, thin green rings around them like cat's eyes.
Suddenly, his other hand came up behind her head and pulled her head down to his. She felt the hunger in his kiss, the need, the desperation. He was rising up on his knees, bending over her, wrapping her in his arms and nearly crushing her. Electricity ran through her from each touch, deep to her core.
When they came up for air, she moved back a little to look at him. He was gasping for breath, and she saw the hunger and love and something more primal…
He pulled her up to her feet. They took a few steps toward the stairs before they stumbled. He caught her head before it hit the wall, and pressed himself against her, pinning her. His lips burned against hers.
I never even suspected that he had this in him.
Still wrapped in each other, they stumbled to the stairs, and made their way up in fits and starts. Henry's back slammed into the door to their bedroom, and Eileen leaned up to him.
"Eileen, I…"
"Sssh," she said, silencing him with a kiss. She felt his belt buckle cold against her stomach where her shirt had ridden up.
He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back. His hand stroked her hair, and his breath came in short gasps.
"No...I need to know…now. Do you want this? Really?"
Her heart turned over. She smiled. "And you?"
"'Leen…we're both pretty drunk," he said slowly, with a little lopsided smile. "If you move a muscle, I don't know if I'm going to be able to stop."
"Mmm," she replied, contemplating his neck hungrily. His breath was hot on her forehead. "You?"
"God, yes." he said. His eyes traveled over her face as if seeing it for the first time. "If you'll have me." She leaned into him. His tongue ghosted over her ear, and she lost all reason.
He yanked her back against him, into the door. It burst open, and they stumbled into the room and fell upon the bed.
The next morning dawned cool and crisp. As Eileen woke, she had a feeling that something was different somehow. Her tongue felt like cotton, but that wasn't it.
She felt the cool sheets against her skin. Where were her nightclothes? she thought drowsily.
She opened one eye, and saw what looked like Henry's favorite T-shirt in a pile on the carpet. That's weird…he never drops his clothes on the floor…
Then she remembered. She smiled to herself, and turned away from the window. He sat upright in bed, watching her. The sheet was pulled up around his waist, and his arms rested on his raised knees. The light hairs on his forearms caught the morning light.
"Good morning."
"'Morning," she said, stretching. "How are you feeling?"
Henry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Kinda dry-mouthed. You?"
"The same. But otherwise great," she said, snuggling up against him. His skin was soft.
"Uh…Eileen…I…"
Her hand went to his cheek, and as her fingertips touched it, his eyes closed and he caught his breath.
"What is it, Henry?"
He paused. "Last night…"
She pulled her hand away, and felt her heart sink.
"…are you OK?"
She smiled her bravest smile. "I'm fine. Better than fine. Are you OK?"
He let out his breath raggedly, and this time the smile reached his eyes. "No regrets?"
"None at all."
"Same here."
It was her turn to let out her breath. His gaze moved over her face, as it had last night, and he held out his arm. She leaned into his warmth. It was going to be OK.
Henry reached for something on the floor. She found herself fascinated by the fine, light skin at the side of his waist as he bent over. His eyes were on her as he handed her the glass of water, and she drank deeply. She gave the glass back to him with a smile.
"Just one question," Eileen said, snuggling into him.
"Shoot."
"What were we waiting for?"
Her ear against his chest caught the rumble of his laugh. "I guess we were being careful." He sounded thoughtful. "Given that both our sets of parents split up, that's not too surprising."
She nodded. "Everything has happened so fast. I've never believed into rushing into anything so important."
"That makes two of us."
She felt his body stiffen suddenly, and she sat up.
"What's wrong?"
"Being careful…I just remembered…" His eyes traveled to her stomach.
"I'm OK for now," she said. He relaxed.
"I didn't think about that. I didn't think about anything except you last night." She could hear the anger in his voice…he was angry at himself.
"It's fine for now. We'll be more careful in the future," she said, stroking his jaw.
He raised an amused eyebrow at her. "The future, huh? So…this is a thing, now?"
"Yes, my articulate Henry," she smiled. "We have a thing."
His small smile grew. Her hand moved across his abdomen. Not too defined, but slim and strong, she thought.
"Got anywhere you need to be this morning?" he asked.
"I have that job interview after lunch, but I'm free now." She lifted an eyebrow.
He grinned down at her. Then, he flipped over, tackled her, and pulled her, giggling, back under the blankets. She hadn't giggled in years.
"No, you're not. You're mine, all mine," he said.
"Damn right," she said.