Chapter 11

I heard a sound; something I was familiar with but didn't recognize. Then a short, sharp bark. I opened my eyes and saw Bozo right in front of me. He started licking my face as if it was covered in chocolate and he was trying to get it all off.

I pulled back and realized I was grabbing onto a pillow as if I had my arms around someone. I knew the bed was empty behind me before I turned around to make sure.

Bozo started whining. That was the sound I'd heard but not quite heard before the bark. He wanted something.

I got out of the bed and he sat down in front of the closed bedroom door. I know that door was open when I fell asleep. There was no way I was going to turn Jack away with a closed door if he came to his senses sometime during the night. I opened the door and Bozo rushed into the living room and stood right in front of that door.

I walked across the room and let him out. He took off down the stairs like a shot, almost skidding to a stop on his butt, and squatted. He glanced up at me with that kind of embarrassed look dogs get when you watch them take a crap.

Poor guy. Jack usually took care of that stuff. I looked back into the living room and saw that the sheets and blanket were all folded neatly and piled at one end with the pillow on top. I looked back at my relieved dog and remembered Jack putting the empty plastic bag back in the garage when we got home from our walk. Maybe my dog had been scared shitless. Thinking of that made me laugh, more of a bark, really. He made his way over to the fence and was sniffing Queenie, who was sniffing back. I figured he'd be OK out there and would come in when he was ready.

Leaving the front door open, I went back into the apartment. It felt empty, almost cold, and I wrapped my arms around my chest. I looked at the pile of bedding but couldn't tell if it had just been done or if he left a half hour after I finally cried myself to sleep.

I went into the bathroom, used the toilet, then used the sink. Bozo came in to check on me while I was brushing my teeth and I reached down and scratched his ear the way I'd seen Jack do so many times with every dog he came across. Bozo must have figured I was OK because he left me alone.

After I'd splashed some water on my face and brushed my hair, I went out to the kitchen. Bozo was lying on his rug. I rinsed and filled his water bowl, then took his food bowl over to the bag of dog food we kept in with the washer and dryer. I was all set to fill it when I remembered what Jack said about everyone wanting to feed him. I put a handful of his food in the bowl, thought about it and added a second. I could always give him more later, but this should last him till the people started arriving.

I looked over at the counter. The coffee pot was empty. He didn't make coffee for himself. I didn't know what to make of that information. The digital clock said 8:34.

I don't know what time it was when I finally cried myself out and fell asleep. It was after 1 the last time I'd noticed the clock, but I was awake way past that. I felt tired and drained — both physically and emotionally. And I felt confused, scared even. Would I be living here after today? Would he even be talking to me tomorrow? If only he'd let me explain. I was only trying to do what was best for us.

We had some coffee cake left in the freezer. I cut off a piece and zapped it in the microwave. Huh! I cut, Jack would have hacked off a piece. Oh, what I'd give right now for him to hack off a piece with me.

I poured myself a glass of milk and got the plate out of the microwave when it dinged. Bozo came over to check it out when I sat down.

"Get back on your rug. You'll have plenty of time to beg this afternoon."

He let out a sound, kind of a half whimper, his way of letting me know he'd follow my order but wasn't too thrilled about it. But he did go back to his rug, and lay down after walking around in circles a couple of times.

It was then that I saw it. A piece of paper, lying there in the middle of the table, held down by the salt shaker. It was one of those half-size pages, torn from a steno pad, a light green with darker green lines, the top part all frayed where it had been ripped from the spiral at the top of the pad. My heart stopped for a split second when I saw it.

It was a simple note, but then, Jack's a simple guy. "Went to get ice. J." No hearts, no XXXOOO, just four words and an initial. No "Dear Jill", "Darling", "Love of my Life", either. It had to be meant for me. It was on our table. And if it had been meant for others, it would have specified which "J". It was the first communication from Jack since he told me he wasn't making up the couch for Wanda.

Did it mean he forgave me for whatever he thought I did wrong? I have no idea. Like the empty coffee pot, I wasn't going to try to read something into what wasn't there. All it meant was he told me where he was. Maybe so I wouldn't worry, maybe so I wouldn't send someone else to get ice; the important thing was he was communicating. And that meant I had a chance to state my case and show him how all I'd done was for the two of us, not because I was jealous.

I looked over at the microwave. 8:48. Jack would be home soon and I knew I was a mess. Time to get in the shower. I bit off half of the coffee cake that was left and tossed the rest to Bozo. He got it on the first bounce. Oh, well. I'm sure he'll get plenty of practice catching food this afternoon.

I rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

"Your mama's going to make herself look pretty for your daddy." His ears picked up and he seemed to smile.

That note made all the difference in the world. It changed me from feeling hopeless to having some hope about the situation. I'd talk to Jack. I'd convince him that he was wrong and we'd go forward, working as a team so we could be together forever. That's all I wanted. I just needed to show him how mistaken he was, and everything would be back to normal.

As I washed my hair, I could smell the strawberry in the shampoo. Jack likes my strawberry. He likes to bury himself in my hair and grab hold of my mane with two fists, rubbing it all over his face. When we sit or lie down next to each other, his hand always finds its way to my hair. Maybe just to twist a few strands around a couple of fingers, maybe to comb it with all of them, maybe to stroke it like I do Bozo's. I suppose a lot of women would feel abused being petted the same way as a dog. I just enjoyed it for what it was, and knew why my dog liked it so much. The sense of touch is so basic, so primitive, so sensual.

I squirted some body wash on a wash cloth and did my front. My nipples were up. I had a chance to get my man back and that was exciting. When I got to my butt and between my legs, I imagined Jack pounding into me, both front and back, staking his claim, making me his once again. There were too many things that needed to be done before our guests arrived, so that wouldn't be possible this morning. Besides, it wouldn't do for the hostess to be walking around like she had a tree trunk up her ass. But I was sure we could make some time for a blow job.

I brushed my teeth again, put on a little blush and did my eyes, and brushed the hell out of my damp hair. When I got to the bedroom, it was 9:12, with no sign of Jack. He should be back by now, unless he was running late when he left for ice. Maybe he was downstairs with Alex, doing the setup. That had to be it.

I put on some shorts and tied a shirt under my boobs. This morning I'd wear tennies. Before everyone came, I'd change outfits and put on some sandals.

Bozo took off when I opened the door. The gate to the back yard was open and I saw Alex and some other guy taking a stack of tables into the back yard. Bozo went over to check them out but wasn't stupid enough to get in the way.

"Hi, Alex. Is Jack around?"

"It's good to see you too, Jill. No, he left us a load of ice and went over to your house."

"Why did he do that? Daddy and Wanda are bringing everything with them when they come over."

"I don't know, Dear. He didn't tell me." He put down his end of the tables, then the other guy did his. "How about a hug?"

"Oh, Yeah." I walked over and put my arms around him.

"That's not the kind of hug I'm used to. Don't you like old Alex anymore?"

"Uh, no, I mean yes. I'm just worried about Jack."

"He's a big boy. I'm sure he can find his way there and back by himself."

"It's not that. It's just ... oh, never mind. I'm just being silly."

He scrunched up his forehead as he looked at me. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Do you need anything from me?"

"No, we're fine. This is Rudolfo. He just got out of the navy and I'm teaching him the construction business."

Rudolfo held out his hand and I gave him mine. Instead of shaking it, he bowed and brushed his lips across the back of it. I wasn't really paying attention and he surprised the hell out of me. I yanked my hand away from him.

"I'm sorry, Senorita. I wasn't trying to frighten you."

That voice. So deep and smooth and foreign. For some reason, I wanted to hear him say "Corinthian Leather." I took a closer look at him. His skin was dark, more like a good tan than black. A couple of shades darker than mine got in the summer.

"Excuse me, Rudolfo, but where are you from?"

"I was born in Murcia."

"Is that in Mexico?"

"No, Senorita. It is in the southeast part of Spain, off the Mediterranean. We are famous for our orchards and the weather is very similar to this. There are a lot less people, though."

"Your English is very good."

He laughed, a deep sound of joy that made me smile. "My father was a member of the Spanish consulate in Washington, D.C. I spent four years going to school there. That and five years with a bunch of American sailors taught me that if I wanted to be able to communicate, I needed to speak and understand English."

"No offense, but why do you want to work in construction? I would think you could do much better for yourself than that."

Again he laughed. "In my country, building is a noble profession. A person who can create homes, churches, cathedrals — such a man is valuable in my country. Any one can sit behind a desk and move papers around, but what good does that do anyone?"

"I don't know. My father's a doctor. He helps women bring children into the world."

"Yes, I know. Senor Alex has much praise for your father. He sounds like a good man."

"I think so. I plan to work with computers. I guess that doesn't sound like much of an accomplishment to you, does it?"

"In my country, no. But in yours, it could be. I know it is a very valuable profession in India. The important thing is how you feel about it. If you love what you do and are good at it, you can always do well in life. Money isn't everything when you can come home and feel good about your day's work."

Alex put his arm on my shoulder. "Jill, I hate to break this up, but we have a lot to do before everyone gets here. Do you think you could continue this later?"

"I'm sorry, Alex. I have a lot to do, too. Rudolfo, I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe was can talk more later."

He put out his hand and looked at me. I gave him mine and he brushed his lips across it again. "It will be my pleasure. But I had better get back to work or my patron won't give me any food this afternoon." He released my hand and winked at me.

"Thank you."

Damn, this guy was smooth. I'm sure he had no trouble finding women for his bed.

Alex grinned at me. "You'd better get in out of the sun, Sweetie. Looks like you may be getting a bit burned."

He laughed out loud when I glared at him. "Come on, you old charmer. Back to work or I'll sic her wild beast on you."

"Si, Senor. Whatever you say, Senor."