Wife and Ex-Wife Ch. 11

"Oh!" Nina said, flustered. "This is, um, Amelia." With vast reluctance she added: "Patrick's ex-wife."

"Ex-wife?" Larry said, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah. She's had some difficulties and is staying with us for a while. Just temporary."

"Okay," Larry said in a daze as he extended his hand to this unexpected female.

Amelia took the hand, but was glaring viciously at Nina. Didn't you tell him about me?

Nina, looking at her over Larry's shoulder, shrugged as if to say: Well, gee, Amelia, I didn't have time! And explanations would have been pretty complicated.

But Amelia quickly turned her attention to the newcomer—and she liked what she saw. Larry Wilkerson was about five foot nine, or an inch or two taller than Patrick; and he was filled out a bit more than his host, although by no means heavy. His straight, sandy hair topped a face that radiated openness, honesty, and a bit of naïveté; there was something of the "Aw, shucks!" country boy in him in spite of his profession as an attorney in corporate law.

They all bundled Larry into the guest bedroom on the main floor. Amelia had transferred many of her belongings to various closets and dressers upstairs. Everyone assisted Larry in getting settled, although Nina, looking dubiously at the skimpy amount of clothes in his suitcase, extorted a promise from him to let her go to his apartment downtown and get a lot more clothes for the coming weeks.

One of the first orders of business, in terms of Larry's recovery from his horrific accident, was to exercise his muscles. His legs were still in a cast, but his arms were now free of their plaster impediments, and Nina had paid careful attention to his doctor's orders to massage at least his biceps (the soft casts were only on his forearms). Nina enlisted Amelia to help her with the task, and both women plunged into the work at once. Over Larry's protests, they briskly stripped him of his shirt, applied some lotion to his biceps and to their own hands, and got down to the business of reviving Larry's muscles.

Like Patrick, Larry hated to be babied, especially by women; but in this case, there wasn't much he could do about it. He certainly didn't want Patrick to do the work, and he couldn't very well do it himself. So he sat there on the bed with a bit of a sulk while the two women, sitting on either side of him, kneaded him as if he were an inanimate object.

Presently Nina left and said, "I have to start making dinner. You stay here and finish up for me, Amelia."

And with that, she got up and left.

It was obvious that Larry was pretty uncomfortable being touched by a woman he hadn't known for more than a few minutes. Amelia smiled at him as she worked, but that seemed to make matters even worse.

Larry thought of engaging in some conversation, but he had trouble thinking of any subjects that would be safe to talk about. Finally he ventured:

"So . . . you're Patrick's ex-wife?"

"Yes," Amelia said. "We, um, divorced about four years ago."

Larry didn't know what to say to that.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," Amelia went on, realizing that some kind of explanation—however incomplete or even deceptive—would have to be made. "I had some trouble with my boyfriend, and so these guys took me in so I could chill out and get my act together."

"That's really nice of them."

"Yes, it is. They're wonderful people."

"I guess I'm in something of the same boat."

"Yeah, sort of." She looked up at him. "I hope it's not too troubling for you to be back in the house. This is where you lived with Nina, isn't it?"

Larry had to swallow before answering. "Yes. Yes, it is."

"Must be tough, you poor man."

"It's my own fault," he said lugubriously.

"Oh, well, that's all in the past." She got up from the bed and unexpectedly gave his cheek a little stroke with her hand. "You just rest a bit. We'll have a nice dinner ready for you soon."