Laura's Fire

"I can't, Laura, I'm sorry," he said and sat back on his knees, his hand still on her butt cheek, holding the spot he had kissed.

She pushed herself up and turned to face him. He was sitting on his knees, his penis sticking out towards the ceiling, slick with her fluids and very hard.

"I can't hit you," he said, a pleading look in his eyes.

"You don't need to," she said. "I didn't like it either."

She pulled him back down with her, guiding him between her legs, and clung to his shoulders as he pushed in again. He went deep and slow and she matched his movement. They were moving together, close to each other, and it was slow and nice, tender. She lifted her legs around his hips and he pushed deeper, she moaned into his ear.

"Give it to me," she said.

"Oh, darling," he said.

He kissed her and started to go faster, and she could feel her orgasm building now. She started to whimper, and just like the first time she got so impatient she helped it with her hand, fingers slipping around her clit. She came like a rocket and he pushed into her spasms a few times before she pulled him over the edge with her, and then they rocked together through the bliss.

They were quiet and still for a long time, catching their breath, him still in her, diminishing slowly. She stroked the sweaty hair in the back of his neck.

"Darling?" she said.

"Hmh?" he said and pulled out of her, keeled over to the side, pulled her closer.

"You called me darling," she said.

"Was it wrong?" he asked and kissed her, then settled his head on the pillow, far enough so that he could look at her without crossing his eyes.

"I don't know," she said.

"Don't you want me to call you that?" he asked.

She thought about it, he stroked hair off her face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't spank you," he said. "I'd like to do whatever you like to do, but I don't have that in me."

"Oh, it's alright," she said. "It was half a joke anyway. And I didn't like it either."

"Also I'm not a woman," he said. "So for that you have to go elsewhere."

"I've never seriously thought of doing it with a woman," she said. "I don't think it's about that with the magazine."

She thought about the pose he had shown her.

"Is that how you see me? Like with the mirror?" She asked.

"Yes," he said simply, and then he added, almost defiantly, "Darling."

Their eyes met.

"The waiter called us a cute couple," she said. "Do you think we are?"

"Cute or a couple?" he asked. "You're definitely cute. And I would love to have a relationship with you. But I really don't wanna freak you out. I know it's too fast and it's all sorts of messed up now that you're kind of dependent on me. I just want you to be alright."

"Well we do live together," she said and smiled.

He returned the smile but it was a little reserved.

"So how do you see it?" he said. "Are you interested in me at all?"

Now what the hell was she going to say to him. She didn't even know what she wanted to say. She didn't even know what she was thinking.

"How did you put it earlier? You said you haven't been lusting over me. Well I have been lusting over you ever since I saw you at the library that first day. And now that I've been with you I know I was right to do that. But I don't want you to think I think of you like some sort of a sex toy. I like you, I really do. I like spending time with you. I like how you hold me. It makes me so mad how Billy and everyone treats you. I...I guess I just want you to be alright, too. But I really don't know how to be with anyone, I think I'm gonna disappoint you."

He thought about this, biting his lip.

"But would you be willing to try?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm afraid."

He pulled her into his arms and stroked the back of her head with his fingertips.

"It's alright," he said.

She felt up his touch for a minute.

"Is it because of your dad that you don't want to hurt me?" she asked.

"Must be," he said. "Though I am violent when I have to be. You can't survive prison without sticking up to yourself. Nor the kind of company I kept before going to prison, I suppose. So you gotta act kinda macho and be prepared to fight if the need arises. But I don't want to be violent, I don't get anything out of it, it makes me sick."

"You were so patient when Billy was teasing you at the library. I think I was more angry than you."

"It did make me angry. And it made me so upset for you, thinking maybe he associates you with me and will be shitty towards you now. And I could kick his ass and I'm not saying I wouldn't want to. But I can't get into a fight with him, or anyone else for that matter. I'm on probation and no matter how much he provokes me it's gonna be my fault if we fight. It won't cost him a thing but it will cost me my life."

"What were you in for?"

"Robbery. I was the getaway driver. It was lucky it wasn't an armed robbery or I would still be in. I guess I was lucky to get caught for that and not some other stupid things I did, because I did commit crimes that would've earned me a higher sentence than the one I got. I kept stupid company when I was young and I was stupid myself."

"Was it like...a gang?"

"No, thank God for that. You don't get out of gangs. Alive at least. No, we were just a bunch of stupid petty criminals. And in prison I kept my head down, tried not to get involved in anything. Read a lot. Definitely didn't join any gangs."

She didn't know what to say. They were quiet for a bit and then she said, "You wanna spread lotion on my birthmark?"

"Yes, if you'll let me," he said.

They got up and went to the bathroom to wash up. Goldie looked at them a little reproachfully and walked slowly out when they opened the door.

He stood facing her and spread the lotion on her gently, thoroughly, much more gently and thoroughly than she ever did. He rubbed her ear between his fingers and looked almost devout in his concentration. She thought how there had been a few days' gap after the fire that she hadn't used the lotion, and that there had been no change whatsoever in the mark, and she wondered what would happen if she stopped using it altogether.

A few days' gap...because everything she had was burned...she looked at him wide eyed and said, "Oh fuck."

"What?" he said. "Did I hurt you?"

"What? No, no. But I just realized. Remember when I told you I'm on the pill? Well I've got a prescription, alright, I've been eating them for years because my menstruation is so heavy otherwise, but the fucking pills burned down with the house, right? So I haven't been actually eating them."

His eyes widened as well.

"Uuh," he said.

"Oh, bloody hell," she said. "So we went from zero to living together overnight and now if we've got shitty enough luck we're gonna be parents next."

"I think I need to lay down," he said and left the bathroom.

She finished washing up and went to lay beside him in the bed.

"You alright?" she asked. "I'm probably not pregnant, I think I'm too old to get knocked up so easily. So it's no use freaking out. Yet, at least."

"I should've realized," he said and pressed on his eyes. "I'm so fucking stupid, I'm sorry."

"Oh no you're not," she said and pulled him into her arms. "Just come here, I'll hold you."

He came into her lap and let her hold him.

"Do you want to have kids?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she said. "I haven't thought about it much, because it hasn't even seemed possible. But I'm so...awkward and set in my own ways I don't think I could handle it. How about you?"

"I did, when I was younger," he said. "I wanted to become a better father than my own. But fucking up my life has made me change my mind. I'm having a hard enough time handling my own shit, I couldn't care for a child."

"You would've been a great dad," she said.

"Thank you. Now let's just hope it won't come to that."

"Yeah," she said, reaching to turn off the light. "Darling."

He made a sound that could've been a chortle or a sob and came closer. She kept hold of him and felt him relax, and it was marvelous to be so close to him, naked, skin on skin.

-#-#-#-#-#-

In the morning they drove to a pharmacy to purchase a morning after pill, a pregnancy test and a packet of condoms. She threw in a bottle of lube and he raised his eyebrows but didn't object.

They drove downtown and Laura went for a walk with Goldie while Tommy met his parole officer. She was sitting on a park bench near the office building when a tall and beautiful woman walked by and Goldie went crazy. She pulled towards the woman, her tail whipping like mad. The leash almost slipped from Laura's hand because she was totally unprepared for this level of enthusiasm, Goldie was so old she usually didn't enthuse about anything.

The woman looked at the dog, then her, then came hesitantly closer. Goldie barked once, sat down, her tail swinging so that it wasn't actually a sitting position but a funny crouch where her ass was wiping the ground, from side to side. The woman laughed and scratched Goldie behind both ears, leaned closer and pushed her forehead against the dog's head.

"Is this Goldie?" she asked Laura. "Is it really you, girl?" she continued, addressing the dog. "Yes you are, aren't you? Who's a good girl? Yes you are, oh yes you are."

She came to the bench, Goldie fussing around her, and after gesturing questioningly she sat down at the other end of the bench.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember seeing you before?" she said. "How are you here with Goldie? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, not at all," Laura said, although she did mind a little. "I'm holding her for Tom while he's...running errands."

"Seeing his parole officer you mean?" the woman asked, glancing at her. "I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Charlene, we used to have a...thing with Tommy. And to be honest I'm here on the same errand myself, my appointment just ended."

"Oh," Laura said. "Well. I'm Laura, we're neighbors with Tommy. He kinda rescued me when my house burned down a while back."

"Oh yeah, back in his hometown or what? I remember he went back there to fix the house for sale or something."

"Yeah," Laura said. "We were neighbors already back when we were kids. Haven't seen him since he left town, though."

It was awkward to sit together and Laura couldn't think of anything more to say. Probably Charlene didn't, either, because soon she scratched Goldie just a little more and then said goodbye and left.

Laura watched her walk away, how her hips were swinging, her red hair cascading down her back in lazy curls. She was gorgeous, totally in a different league from her. Slightly slutty but on the way that was just seductive instead of being trashy.

Laura realized she didn't know much of Tommy's previous relationships. He had had some, that much was obvious, and she hadn't expected anything else. But to meet Charlene was so depressing, there was no way Tommy would want to be with her, if he could get a beauty like that.

Wait, what? Why was she thinking Tommy should want to be with her? And "previous relationships" as opposed to what? Did she think Tommy was with her? Did she want him to? He had said he would like to try but she had absolutely no idea how that could ever work. She was suddenly on a very alien territory and it scared and confused her.

It took additional fifteen minutes before Tommy arrived and she had managed to pull herself together by then. She didn't mention Charlene, there didn't seem to be a reasonable way to take it up with him, and it was none of her business after all.

They had lunch at an outdoor stall so they could keep Goldie with them, and after lunch they started towards home.

It was heartbreaking to follow Tommy as they got closer to their town. It was like watching a light go out. He toned down, stopped singing with the radio, stopped joking, became solemn and wary and somehow smaller.

Someone had been in his yard. There were tire marks all over and there was a dent in one of the trees, with some paint on it, it looked like someone had hit it with a car. A yellow car. Like the one Billy had. There were half a dozen eggs thrown to his front door.

"God, aren't we too old for this," said Tommy and went inside to get cleaning supplies.

He cleaned and she stood and watched. Her first thought was to call the police, but she guessed he didn't see it that way.

Patchy greeted them with his usual sour indifference.

The chief of the fire department called towards the end of the business hours. He told her the cause of the fire had been fallen curtains on the stove, courtesy of her cats, and that they had found remains of a thoroughly burned cat from the ruins. They had filed an official report she could send to her insurance company. She thanked him and ended the call.

-#-#-#-#-#-

Laura wasn't pregnant, not by the test and not by the fact that her period started a few days after they'd returned from Cleveland. They were both relieved but strangely a little sad at the same time. She had cramps and was grumpy, and in the evening when they lay in bed reading she kept turning, trying to find a position it wouldn't hurt. She was contemplating whether to ask for a painkiller, when her turning seemed to attract his attention.

"What is it?" he asked. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, it does," she admitted and turned once again.

"Where? Your back? Can I massage you a bit?" he asked.

"Well if you want to," she said, confused, not sure where he was going with this.

He pushed her over so that she was on her side, her back to him, and came closer. He pushed her nightgown up and stroked the skin on her lower back. It felt amazing in itself, his hand was so big and warm, but then he started pushing with his fingers. He searched for just the right spots and it really did alleviate the ache, it was really nice. He massaged her for a few minutes and then kissed her cheek from behind.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," she said. "Thank you."

It was remarkable, and at the same time she couldn't help wondering whether he had massaged Charlene like that. Or maybe somebody else. It was strange how disturbing the thought was, and she didn't want to ask him.

-#-#-#-#-#-

She returned to work and replaced the magazine that had burned down. As she had guessed nobody had wanted to borrow it meanwhile, mostly nobody ever did, but her inner librarian just couldn't have let the issue not be replaced. It was comforting to get back to the routine, but it also felt a little weird, like she couldn't quite go back to where she had been.

Library was closed for Christmas. It would open shortly in between but be closed again for New Year's, and Molly had the in between shifts this year, so Laura had a week off work ahead of her. Other than that she hadn't thought of Christmas, she didn't usually celebrate it, there seemed to be no point in trying to decorate for only herself.

On Christmas Eve Tommy went out with Goldie and came back with a small fir tree. He set it up on the living room table and even went to rummage for a box of decorations, and Laura watched in mute confusion when he hung up the wary looking old baubles and twisted twines.

"I found these from the attic," he explained. "They're from my childhood. Some I have made myself, see?"

He pointed at a few especially clumsy ones.

"Oh," she said and sat beside him on the couch. "They're cute."

"Mom always liked Christmas," he said. "So I played along and tried to make it even better for her. Dad usually didn't drink on Christmas days, he had some respect even in his worst days. Maybe that was why mom liked it so much."

"Are they buried here?" she asked. "Have you been to the graveyard? Want to go and take some candles there today?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "It would be nice," he said.

He had been mostly confined to the house and it's immediate vicinity after they'd been to Cleveland. Laura had done the grocery shopping and other errands that required going to the town. There was still whispering in her wake, and Billy didn't look at her kindly when they met, but nobody had said anything to her. Nobody ever did.

After dark they got the candles and drove to the graveyard behind the church. It was beautiful, there were candles on almost every grave, and their flickering light in the darkness was eerily enchanting. They walked slowly and respectfully to where Tommy's parents were buried and he crouched down to dig a little dent in the snow to set the candle in, lighted it with matches.

They looked at it together for a few minutes and she lifted her hand on his back, stroked him a little. He accepted the touch and leaned into it for a moment, and she still had her hand on his back when they turned to go.

Along the path towards the grave came Billy Thompson and his brother Dan. They stopped when they saw Tommy.

"How are you still around," Billy growled. "I thought you'd ran back to where you came from. And you'd better! We don't need your kind here."

Tommy didn't respond.

"Can't you leave it be?" asked Laura, angry now. "It's Christmas, for God's sake! We just came to set candles to the graves."

They had come a little way from Tommy's parents' grave, and apparently Billy didn't know which one it was. He peered around for a bit and Laura got a clear idea of how he would've kicked snow on their candles if he had known.

Laura looked at him closely, demandingly. She had suddenly grown a backbone and was staring into Billy's eyes, her look unwavering.

"You think it's okay to have a fight in the cemetery on Christmas night? What do you suppose Mrs. Thompson would say to that?"

Their mom was a retired primary school teacher who was a regular in the library. Dan started fidgeting at the mention of her and nudged Billy.

"C'mon Billy, can we just go," he said.

Billy consented, after all there was none of his court here to impress, but passing by he pushed Tommy hard enough for him to stumble into the snowbank beside the path. The men went and Laura extended her hand and pulled Tommy up. They went to seek for her parents' grave, he wiped the snow off his clothes. They didn't talk about the incident, but the mood was ruined, and soon they left back home.

Her nightmares had subsided but they still slept in the same bed. She had trouble admitting it even to herself, but going to sleep with him had become her favorite part of the day. They used to read together for an hour or more, and when they turned the lights off they cuddled together and held each other. It was so cozy and so easy, and it made her feel so warm and safe.

On Christmas Day she woke up as he left the bed. She lay in lazy half sleep listening to how he went to the bathroom, padded to the kitchen to make coffee, greeted Goldie and Patchy in a sleepy voice when he met them on the way.

He came back with the coffee a little later and sat up on his half of the bed. He put his hand on her hair, stroked her a little, it was a gentle touch but it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Merry Christmas," he said.

She turned her head a little to look at him, and he gestured to her with a Christmas present he had in his other hand. By the looks of it it was a book.

She sat up slowly and he gave her the present and her coffee mug. She looked at the present, covered in a shiny red and golden wrapping paper, surrounded by a golden ribbon.

"But I don't have anything for you," she said, confused and suddenly ashamed. "I don't usually celebrate Christmas and I...I haven't had anyone to buy presents for for a long...well, ever, actually."

"Don't worry," he said. "I wasn't expecting anything."

She turned the present over in her hands and opened it slowly. It was a collection of erotic short stories, written for some competition the previous year. It looked stylish, it wasn't the usual sleazy style but a notch higher, and it looked like something she well could've read but it happened she hadn't. She looked at him, he smiled a small tentative smile.