A Couple of Years of Gardening (Chapter 6) (standard:romance, 3771 words) [6/10] show all parts
Author: kmr412002	Added: Feb 18 2007	Views/Reads: 2273/1583	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The story of a the courtship and marriage of a detective as told by his wife.

CHAPTER 6 

When we get to the loft he picks up his messages.  His place seems to be
one large room divided up by bookshelves.  Jack apologizes but says he 
has to make a call; which lasts a few minutes. When he comes to sit 
beside me I can tell he has something on his mind. 

I ask, “Jack, what is it?” 

He shakes his head and says, “It's those goddamn hearings.”  He sits on
the sofa beside me, and says, “I'm sorry I didn't bring you here to --. 
Nina, all I got in this world is this job. And to think some suits can 
just take it away from me.”  He shakes his head in disbelief. 

I take his hand and look at him. Then I say, “Maybe, Jack, that's not
all you have in this world.” 

He leans over and kisses my cheek and then lays his head on my lap
holding my hand to his chest. We stare into the fire not saying 
anything. The warmth is soothing and I rest my head on the arm of the 
sofa. I wonder why I'm here. I wonder if we'll sleep together. I wonder 
if this is a good idea, even though I really want to. I wonder . . . 

When I wake up, I smell the woodsy smell of a fire that has gone out.
Jack has covered with me with a blanket.  I peek around a bookcase to 
find him still clothed sprawled across the bed.  I cross toward the 
room and pick up my sweater. As I put it on, I can hear a violin 
playing. I open the sliding glass door and step out to the balcony. It 
sounds like it's coming from an Italian restaurant we passed. I 
recognize the music immediately – this is too bizarre. As I listen I 
finger the railing, wondering if I should take this as an omen.  Good 
or bad, I don't know. I stand there for moment considering what I 
should do when Jack comes into the living room and joins me on the 
balcony. 

“He rehearses about this time almost every night,” he walks up to me as
he's trying not disturb a quiet night. He says, “It seems we're both 
insomniacs. If I get home this late, I stop by and he lets me in. I get 
a bowl of minestrone sometimes. Are you okay?” 

I nod not looking at him and I sniffle. “I am such a sucker for violin
music. You must think I'm a sap.” 

“Sometimes, I think you cry too easily and you laugh too hard, but I
also think I need more of that in my life. I need you in my life.” 

I pretend not to hear and clasp my hands to keep them from shaking. “I'm
sorry, Jack, maybe this just wasn't a good idea.” 

“I don't believe that. I'll never believe that.”  He leans forward and
gently kisses my neck.  He whispers, “Ever since that night, I've been 
wanting to smell that scent.” 

I try to say it teasingly but voice comes out sounding panicky. “Now you
know, Jack, that this makes no sense. Where are my gloves?” 

He walks across the room to pick them up from the counter.  I hold my
hand out and say, “Give them to me.” 

He shakes his head, “Come get them.” 

I whisper, “Jack, are we doing the wisest thing?” 

He walks toward me. “Right now, I don't care if it's wise. I spend my
days being wise, doing the smart thing; crossing my t's and dotting my 
i's so I don't screw up a case and get some child molester released 
back out on the street.  I am scared, too, but I don't think I can go 
another day without --.” 

He kisses me again and then I remember what Kate said about “the other
story.” Now I knew exactly what she meant. At the same time I am 
thinking, this is not me, this is not me, this is happening way too 
fast. He leads me to the bedroom and takes off his shirt. I stare at 
the tattoo on his forearm and trace it with my finger. I said, “After 
all this time, there's still so much I don't know about you.” 


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