Swollen, bruised, he’d told her. But no blood. That last virgin blood had been spilt the prior night, pink smears on the sheets.
The towel Joan had wrapped the ice pack in was soft, laid between the limp thighs of a defeated woman. Chill cut the throb. But the broken heart under her ribs?
There wasn’t going to be an easy fix for that aching organ.
“Do you want your textbooks? I know you like to sleep with them when you’re upset.”
Turning away from him, legs closing on the ice pack to keep it where it served a purpose, she tucked her face into the pillow. “Knowing you’ve been watching me sleep is really unsettling.”
“You knew I was in the room.”
Yes. She had known. And it was nice to have those long silences in the dark where she didn’t have to be alone. Where he never made her talk. Where he rarely did more than sit on her mattress, elbows to his knees.
Where she’d known he’d left another woman sleeping on his couch or in his bed.
Covers were pulled over her aching body, and then her beloved books were set beside her hands.
“Sleep will do you good.” A gentle hand landed on her curls, stroking mussed hair from her face. A gentle voice, southern to the core, petitioned, “I’m asking you not to do anything that might harm yourself or anyone else on board while I’m gone. No fires, Eugenia. Arrangements need to be made, work done, but I’ll be back by dark. If you get hungry, Joan left food in the bags. If you get thirsty, there’s water. All your things are here if you want to unpack. And I prepared a present. Several new textbooks—my personal favorites back from my teaching days—but most are medical in nature. You’ll find them in the cabinet under the bar.”
She ignored him.
Buttoning up his jeans, he said, “We can go for a walk on the deck when I get home.”
Like a dog being let out so it wouldn’t shit on the carpet.
“Change is never easy, Eugenia, but it’s going to be okay. I promise.” A kiss landed on her forehead.
And then he was gone, unlocking and then locking the door.
Dreamless sleep stole in—the kind that keeps the desperate and the broken alive. Sucking fragmented fools so deep they fought waking.
But a hand jerked her shoulder. “Young lady, that’s enough of that.”
Groggy, burrowing under the covers to escape the utter annoyance, Eugenia growled, “Go away, Mom. I’m tired.”
“And you’ve slept enough. Sleep all day and you’ll never sleep at night. So get up.” Off went the covers, the air-conditioned breeze drawing Eugenia into a hissing, sore ball. “You’re going to take a shower while I change these sheets.”
Brushing matted curls from her face, Eugenia found her wits. “For Christ’s sake, Joan, what the fuck are you doing?”
Already pulling at the bottom sheet, glaring, Joan said, “You a world of good.”
That bitch had done enough good already. “I’m tired. Go away.”
“You’re depressed and moping. And you stink. Go take a shower and cook up one of your creative comebacks. When you’re done, put on the dress hanging on the door and join me for a bowl of strawberries and a shot of vodka. Lord knows I need it after last night.” The woman kept on tugging dirty fabric, as if she’d unmade and remade this bed a dozen times, muttering under her breath, “The pair of you kids both need a hard knock upside the head.”
It was either get off the bed or be rolled off, so she moved. But she did it with several curses. All the while, watching the muttering woman
continue to castigate both the captain and Eugenia.
“He doesn’t know you’re in here, does he?”
“Of course not!” Bob swinging, Joan abandoned her work to glare at the naked woman. “Shower. Move it.”
Bossy much? “I don’t know what you think you’re pulling—”
“No! I don’t know what you think you’re pulling, young lady.” Circling the bed to chastise her properly, Joan snapped, “It’s plain as day that you’re as in love with him as he is with you. He might not have figured it out yet, but don’t think you’re fooling me.”
“Excuse me?” Was this woman off her meds?