Chapter 28

That's how it had started the night before, with the two of them wrapped in an embrace by the table, their mouths acquainting. Now, in the next dawn, such an act seemed natural and easy. They did slow, abandoning the pace and urgency of the night before to savor the present moment. John drew attention to Billie's plate, the one that remained untouched. She claimed to not be hungry, further proving in his mind that she had created the meal for his own pleasure.

When John thought and spoke to Billie he was always confident of a future. This did of course include the fact that they would be together, permanently, on a basis like marriage. If one dared to think even further there was the idea of a family; he would be a father and she a mother. Eating that breakfast and acknowledging its deliciousness was the first time John really wholly believed that it all was possible. She was young, but she was capable. She could take care of herself and thus could take care of him. He could picture her making meals for holidays, arranging flowers, rearranging the furniture and then being there, always, when he came home.

He was less confident of his ability to father than hers to mother. In her he had the utmost respect and assurance. In fact, who would even be a better mother than the girl that rested in his arms, she who's spirit was naturally pure and nurturing? It was all right, and now he had just the security to believe it. That was, if she approved.

He looked to her, wondering if it was what she wanted to be a wife or mother. Maybe she wanted a career. It would be tough with the availability of jobs, especially for a woman, but he didn't doubt her ability if that was her passion. He just wanted to have a place there with her. He didn't think it wise to bombard her with such ideas and proclamations as of yet.

Finished with his food but still nursing the coffee he made to rise. It was his turn to clean up and dress for the day. He told Billie to leave the dishes but he knew the second he was out of sight she'd take them to the sink. She did indeed do just that and as John was making his way into the bathroom he heard the faucet running in the kitchen. He starred at his own reflection in much the same way Billie had done earlier. The only significant thing he noticed was his mouth- it was turned into a smile without his realization or permission. When he tried to frown he felt silly and amused that he couldn't.

He studied his reflection for some more moments. Eventually he arrived at something else. "Hey, doll. Come 'ere."

Billie put down the dishes and dried her hands, walking toward the bathroom door. John was at the mirror, his back to the glass and he glanced over his shoulder to his reflection. When he saw her approach he turned again so she was starring at his back. "Do you see that?"

Stepping forward she looked at the expanse of skin. Close to his shoulder there appeared to be a mark and upon examining it closer she realized it to be a scratch. Another burst of scarlet flooded her cheeks. John arched to see her expression, smirking when he saw the color of her face. Billie looked quickly to her nails, wondering if they were that sharp, if they were long enough to cause such a thing.

"That's from you, baby."

"I know," she whispered. Taking another step forward she wrapped her arms around his bare waist, her lips kissing the scratch lightly. "Does it hurt? I'm sorry."

He chuckled, running his hands along her arms as they held him. "That's something you don't have to be sorry about."

- - -

By that afternoon the two had been together far too long. In the midst of their love-drunk frenzy they could easily claim eternity wouldn't even be long enough to spend together, but in the present moment, when thinking about oblivious family and friends they were exceeding their limit. If John had things his way there wouldn't be anything to hide; he and Billie could be together freely and away from judgment. He realized that even if they were free there would almost always be judgment anyway. Perhaps a life with him wasn't meant to be easy in any way.

Their lies were becoming more ridiculous, risky, and far-fetched. When examining their relationship each party was indeed lying and holding their own personal betrayal, not only together but apart. They could not continue such habits for long and sooner or later something was bound to crash. Their last few moments together were silently shrouded by these facts, making the atmosphere gloomy in the place of comfortable.

Before leaving the apartment the couple nestled together on the couch. John was unashamed to admit to her that he didn't like being parted for any length of time; that he'd miss her. Billie naturally felt the same but, haunted by their intimate night together she couldn't shake her insecurities.

"You still want to be with me, don't you? After last night?" Her voice was but a whisper, trying to speak lightly but so he could understand her worry and in fear of the reaction he would give. It did indeed startle him, he pushing against her hold to look her in the eye, a contorted expression on his face.

"Of course," he huffed. For another moment he pondered regretting their intimacy the night before. It had been too soon, too rash. She imagined that was all he was after. "Where'd you get an idea like that? Huh?"

When he was serious or angry, or any kind of combination of both the drawl in his accent came out fiercely. Billie blushed and cowered after she'd spoken and seen his reaction. Maybe she shouldn't have brought it up? She could worry in her mind but not have had to tell him. No. Wasn't it best to always be honest? They were having a hard time coping with too much honesty.

"I'm sorry, I just..." She didn't know. Men were supposed to be more fond of intimate encounters than actual relationships. He told her everything she needed to hear to think he was not like that, at least not with her, yet now that she was in the position to doubt she did. How much was she worth to him now, now that he'd physically conquered her?

John became aware of her inexperience. He'd known of it all along but to see it so plainly on her face put him a new state of mind. The night before she had looked somewhat apprehensive but gave in to the desires of the moment. Now, in the aftermath, she too was taking in the weight of what had happened. "Are you...what happened last night..."

"No, no," she silenced him, aware that he might wonder if she regretted it. John wasn't too comfortable or experienced himself in emotional talks. It wasn't easy for him. The smoothness didn't flow from his lips in the way other conversations did. "Don't think that."

She tired to assure him that there wasn't anything amiss, but there was; there was more than she realized. That began the beginnings of John's less than pleasant mood. "I'm not going anywhere," he told her, his voice firm. "You believe me?"

She nodded. They kissed and though there was warmth they were both aware that the matter was far from finished. Billie was not used to seeing him so moody as he started to become. She did her best to lighten things, kissing and touching and holding, and though it worked on the outside she knew his and her own dismays were internal. They drove to the Hancock household. Billie had planned to stay the night with Mary, making her mother believe they were having too much fun to miss the whole weekend together. John would drop her a little ways from the house so it looked as though she appeared on foot. The planning for a simple lie was extensive.

Before leaving the car the two shared an embrace and another quick kiss. It was getting harder and harder to say goodbye to one another. However, they did not plan on separating without another plan. For the rest of the day they may be apart, but by night John would return to the house. He told Billie which room he stayed in down the hall, and even if it was for a second, no matter the time, they would see each other.

Billie entered the house alone. She was grateful to think of seeing Mary, despite the secrets she kept from her and the ever-growing guilt, for the girl was always a bright and joyful presence. When the two came together Mary seemed plagued by other things as well. It was a typical bad day that had started just fine and everyone seemed infected.

Mary was quiet and introverted. She seemed different in some way and Billie was sure Mary had mutual feelings about herself. The girls weren't as easy to laugh as they once were and the mutual understanding of communication had seemed to shift. They acted like the best friends they claimed to be but the underlining feelings felt different, changed and yet unacknowledged. Thankfully, later in the day Mary decided to confide in Billie. At first she seemed ready to hear some ordinary worries or disputes in the home, but her concern was much more close.

"It's my uncle. I'm worried about him."

Billie went pale. Her voice came out weak and high. "What's wrong?"

Mary seemed to stall, as if debating what or how to tell her. There were things Mary couldn't tell Billie about her uncle. To betray his identity was unthinkable, and she was feeling less faith in their friendship to even consider her to keep such a secret. "He's isn't...well, normally he doesn't stay with us this long. I'm happy to see him, sure, but I wonder what the reasoning is. I'm worried that it's something bad."

Mary couldn't tell her she feared what new kind of dealings her uncle was getting into, all surely of a criminal nature. There was no way she could express the fear of a darker kind of life affecting one of her loved ones. It was something their family lived with and something their family kept hidden. Mary also worried John had been found out. She lived with that worry every day. What if he was letting his guard down, what if he was planning something terribly dangerous, worse than ever, and what if he were simply waiting for all the badness to catch up with him? She didn't know what to make of anything.

"It doesn't have to be something bad," Billie said. Her words held no comfort for Mary. She didn't even believe herself when she spoke. She was the one holding the largest and nastiest of secrets from her best friend.

"He just isn't the same. Something's different, about this visit at least. When my uncle used to come he'd be around, really around, in the few days he was here. He'd be at every meal, he'd help Ma around the house, with the babies, he would gather all us kids out into the yard and we'd play ball or some other game..." She looked away, gazing out into the expanse of her memories. "He hasn't done that."

Billie was breathing deeply. Had he been too preoccupied with her to tend to the family as was normal? The mans presence was a fleeting one, but Billie had never witnessed this. He made time for her. She felt selfish and arrogant to think everything was her doing, but she was sure the things she had effected were negative. She and Jimmy might have been dealing with a budding relationship, but Mary and her family were suffering. How was she to handle such things?

"And you," Mary spoke, looking to her friend and noting her pale complexion and wide eyes. "You've been different, too. Quiet. Or maybe it's just me being...a nutcase..." she sighed heavily, the last bit of her words coming out with help of a playful smile. She was trying to make light of the awkwardness and Billie gladly accepted it.

"You're not a nutcase," she laughed, reaching out and placing an arm around her. For the first time in a long time they laughed together.