Chapter 7

The next morning,I'm feeling a lot better. I slept well, and I'm not as stressed and exhausted as I was yesterday.

In fact, as I splash water on my face and pull on my jeans and sweatshirt, both my mind and body feel undeniably relaxed.

Maybe that's what the kind of sex we had last night does for me.

It's a kind of cringey thought. So is the memory of how eager and uninhibited I was in bed. It doesn't fit with the way I've always understood myself. Not to mention the silly hope I had of getting Jimmy to open up to me emotionally.

But I brush the self-consciousness away. Brooding on it won't accomplish anything, and Jimmy is acting perfectly normal as he goes through his morning chores.

I prepare an omelet with the last of our cheese along with some buttered toast. Jimmy makes a lot of satisfied sounds as he eats, so it must have turned out pretty well.

"Do we have any way of getting more cheese?" I ask him. The block we've been using came from the basket his mother packed for us on Sunday.

"Yeah, Mike Hurley will bring by our week's supply to my folks' place this evening, so we can pick it up when we're there."

"Oh, we're going to your parents'?" This is the first I heard about that. It's not bad news. Just a surprise. And my voice reflects that much.

"Yeah, sorry." Jimmy swallows his bite with a gulp. "Everyone gets together on Saturday evenings at the farm. Thought you already knew. Is that all right?"

I should have known. There was always a crowd for dinner on Saturdays. But for some reason I hadn't put the pieces together that I'd go too now that I no longer live there. "Yes, it's great. I should have realized we'd go."

"I need to go this week or my folks will worry when I don't show up. But you don't gotta if you'd rather stay here. And if we tell 'em in advance, we don't always have to go."

"No, I want to." It actually sounds like fun. Something different to break the sameness of the days. "Do I need to make anything to bring?"

"Nah. If you feel like it, we can go a little early to help them prep." He's not talking with his normal, relaxed confidence. It's like he's being careful with what he says. "But you don't gotta if you don't?—"

"It's fine, Jimmy." I suddenly realize what's bothering him.

He's afraid I'm going to have another breakdown like I did yesterday.

My cheeks flushing hotly, I try to keep my tone calm and easy. "I really am sorry about yesterday, but you don't have to tiptoe around me. I'm happy to do all my chores and do everything that's expected of me. I think it will get easier once I get into a better schedule with them. I shouldn't have tried to do both the baking and the laundry yesterday. It would have been smarter to split them into two days. I could have done one of them today since it's a light day."

"Okay. Of course you need time to figure things out. Just don't want to overload you in the meantime."

"I'm not overloaded. I promise."

He nods, peering at my face as if searching for confirmation that I'm telling him the truth. "Good. 'Cause I don't want you…"

When he doesn't finish, I do it for him. "To throw another fit?"

"No!" He frowns at me. "Don't want you all stressed. I know how it feels from when I was trying to do everythin' around here myself. So you gotta tell me if you've got too much on your plate."

"Okay. I will." I smile at him since he's clearly trying to be nice. I just hope he's not also a little disappointed that I can't do normal, everyday duties without special accommodations.

"So you don't got too much to do today?" he asks in a lighter tone.

"No, I don't think so. Once it warms up outside, I need to check the laundry I left on the line. Hopefully I won't have to wash it again. If it's okay, I don't really need to do anything today except lunch."

His face relaxes. He's obviously glad to hear that. Probably because it means no more hysterics from me.

"I might wash my hair," I add, thinking through how to use an unexpectedly light day. "Do you have a lot to do?"

"Nope. This time of year isn't too heavy. Figured I'd do more fishing so I can bring some fish this evening and see if anyone wants 'em."

"That's a good idea. Maybe we should take baths this afternoon before we go to your parents'."

"Yeah, that'll work. No way you wanna go with me smelling all fishy."

I'm about to insist I wasn't hinting about any such thing, but then I recognize the look on his face and realize he was teasing.

"So today shouldn't be too bad, right?" He's doing more of that peering at my face.

I duck my head. "Yes. It sounds good."

"You got anything big to do tomorrow?"

"No. Just meals and basics. I understood Sunday is a rest day."

"It is. I was just makin' sure you'd be able to take it easy tomorrow. We can hang around and do a lot of nothin'." He's tilting his head in that way he does to try to see my face when I'm hiding it.

"Yes. I'd like that."

"Okay, good. I haven't forgotten to make you a fishin' rod. I'll try to get that done this weekend."

"There's no hurry on that. I want you to be able to take a break too."

"Won't be any trouble. Think I got all the stuff I need. It won't be fancy, but it'll work and be more your size."

"I'll be happy with anything."

I'm excited about the day now. As long as I don't have to rewash the laundry, nothing on my schedule today is strenuous or annoying. Even with going over to Jimmy's parents', I should have a little time to sit and read this afternoon.

As soon as the sun has been up from the hills for an hour, I go out to check the clothesline. The stuff is still wet, but it didn't freeze overnight, and the fabric still smells clean.

Smiling as I walk back to the house, I give Jimmy a thumbs-up when he calls out, asking if the clothes are fine.

I wash my hair in the kitchen sink since it wouldn't have time to dry if I waited until my bath this afternoon. Then I spend a lot of time combing it out, noticing quite a few split ends. I search the house and find a pair of slim scissors that are still sharp, so I use them to trim about an inch off my hair.

In my search, I find a set of nail clippers, so I tidy up my finger- and toenails.

I discover some stewed tomatoes—obviously canned by his parents sometime in the past—in the root cellar. It gives me an idea, and I grab jars of beans, onions, and corn along with some sort of jerky so I can make a soup for lunch. He's got some half-full containers of packaged spices, clearly left over from the old world. I'm not familiar with all of them, so I smell every one and pick out a few to add to my soup.

I taste it as I heat it up in a big pot, and it's even better than I was hoping.

I get it hot and then let it simmer for a long time. When Jimmy comes inside around noon, he sniffs the air. "Somethin' smells good."

"I experimented and made a soup. We'll see how it is." I glance behind him. "No luck with the fish?"

"Oh, I got a bunch of 'em. They're outside. Keepin' 'em in water in the cooler."

He heads to the sink to wash his hands and face while I ladle out the soup and serve it with bread and butter.

The soup is a success, and we have enough left over for lunch tomorrow.

When Jimmy goes outside afterward to work on putting a fishing rod together for me, I clean the kitchen and then curl up on the couch to read.

I read for about thirty minutes. Then I fall asleep.

I have no idea how much time has passed when I'm awakened by Jimmy gently shaking my shoulder. When I blink up at him, all I see is his face. His too-long hair. His untrimmed beard.

"I need to cut your hair," I mumble.

His dark eyes widen slightly. "You can if you want."

As awareness finally pushes the sleep from my mind, I sit up. "Oh, I didn't mean to nap. What time is it?"

"It's around three, I think. Didn't wanna wake you but wasn't sure if you still wanted to take a bath."

"Oh. Yes. I do. Thanks for waking me up. I shouldn't have slept so long."

"Nothin' wrong with takin' a nap. I already got the bath ready for you."

I stretch to see into the kitchen. "Okay. Great. Thanks. You want me to go first?"

"Yeah. Think that's a better idea."

He goes outside while I get into the tub and scrub myself thoroughly. Then I add more hot water before I tell him I'm done.

I stay in the bedroom while he's bathing, start to put on my now-clean jeans, but then change my mind. The other women make an effort for Saturday dinner. Some came in skirts, some in nicer slacks. Some even looked like they were wearing makeup, which they must have scavenged from somewhere.

Since I don't want to look like a slob, I put on one of the skirts Greta gave me. It's brown and made of some sort of cotton blend—long and sewn in tiers. It's pretty but doesn't look too fancy, especially when paired with my hiking boots, the only shoes I have to my name.

I study my small collection of tops before I decide on the pink turtleneck.

When I check myself out in the mirror, all I can see are my boobs. The top is more fitted than the other ones I wear, and the deep curve of their shape is clearly visible beneath the stretched fabric. So is the outline of my nipples.

I pull my hoodie over it and am relieved. I haven't yet fastened the zipper, but the way it hangs breaks the broad expanse of boobs.

There's a tap on the bedroom door. "Okay if I come in?" Jimmy asks from outside the room.

"Yeah. Of course you can."

He walks in wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He stops short when he sees me.

Self-conscious about his staring, I glance down at myself. "Your mom and the others wear something a little nicer, so I thought I'd try. Are my boobs okay in this?"

His eyes fix on the part in question. "They're way, way better than okay."

I swallow over a little giggle. "I mean in this shirt. I don't have a bra, and I don't want to be indecent. It would be better if they were smaller."

"It wouldn't be better as far as I'm concerned. They're just the right size. Perfect."

I can't hold back the laugh this time as well as the flush of pleasure. "So I'm okay to go like this?"

"You can wear anythin' you want, but I think you look real pretty." His eyes are still moving over me, lingering on my face and my chest.

"Real pretty" seems to be his highest compliment, so I couldn't ask for anything more.

Trying to pull myself out of my pleased haze, I ask, "Did you want me to trim up your hair and beard? I can do it now if you think we have time."

"Yeah. Sure." He obviously washed both during his bath, and they're still mostly wet. "Where should we do it?"

"Let's go to the kitchen. Be easier to clean up the hair."

I find the scissors I used on my own hair and then go to where Jimmy has sat down in his chair at the table. He looks a little stiff as I gently comb out his hair.

For some reason, I'm suddenly self-conscious. This feels domestic. Intimate. It would be easier if Jimmy would say something, but he doesn't. He sits very still as I trim his hair.

I'm not any sort of expert at haircuts, so I mostly just take off the extra length and even up the ends. I towel-dry it and then fix a few uneven pieces. Even with my amateur job, it looks a lot better, and it will look even better when it's dried.

"Okay," I say, wondering why my voice is hoarse. "I think that will do. I can do your beard too if you want?"

"Yeah." He rasps out the word the way I did. Then he turns his chair so I can reach his beard.

This is even more intimate. Vulnerable. I try to keep my hands from trembling as I work. I cut his beard much shorter and then keep snipping until it looks neat.

It feels like Jimmy's eyes are on me the whole time.

"Okay," I say at last, running my hands down his beard to catch any stray pieces. "I think it looks okay. If you don't like it, I can work on it some more."

He looks almost unfamiliar with the shorter hair and neat beard. Not like the rumpled bear he's always been.

It's unnerving.

He gets up and goes to look in the mirror over the dresser.

"Is it okay?" I ask, following him into the bedroom.

"Yeah. It looks good." He combs his fingers through his hair. "It's great. You did great. Thank you."

"No problem." I smile in relief. "I can do it anytime." I shake out my shirt and top to make sure I didn't end up with hair on them.

"I guess I better put somethin' decent on since you're lookin' so pretty."

"Oh, only if you want. It doesn't bother me if you wear what you always wear."

That makes him chuckle. "I guess that's your way of telling me that my normal clothes aren't all that decent."

"No, I didn't?—"

"I'm teasin', Chloe. You don't always have to worry 'bout hurtin' my feelings. I'm not all that prickly, you know."

I check his face and relax when I see he's smiling down at me. Smiling for real in a way he almost never does.

"I know you're not prickly," I tell him, smiling back. "But I want to…"

I bite back what I was going to say. I want to be a good woman for you.

Or something like that.

"You want to what?" he asks softly.

He really wants an answer. I can see it on his face. But I can't seem to shape my original words. I finally manage something. "I want to be good to you."

His mouth parts slightly. Something flares up in his eyes. "You have been good to me. You got no idea how much better it is for me with you here."

He had to do everything on his own before I got here. And he didn't get to have sex every evening. It makes sense that things are better for him now, but it's really nice to hear him say it.

My smile broadens. "Okay. Good. It's better for me too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Then he shakes himself off. "We better hurry. It takes a while to walk there, and it's getting late."

"I'm ready anytime."

"Just give me five minutes."

* * *

Jimmy is actually ready in less than five minutes. He puts on a pair of khakis and a blue plaid button-up. He even tucks it in, and he's almost unrecognizable.

He looks good. Really good. But I almost miss the big rumpled bear.

I don't tell him that, of course. He pulls the big cooler full of the fish he caught today on its two wheels, and he refuses to let me help. Everyone else is already there when we arrive.

It feels strange. Walking in with Jimmy at my side. Most of the faces are familiar, but they're looking at me differently. I don't know what to say, so I smile and nod and hope no one is going to put me on the spot.

I'm quiet to begin with, but I end up having a good time. I sit next to a lovely black woman who introduces herself as the Hurleys' daughter, Amelia. She's friendly and genuine, and it's easy to warm up to her. I end up talking a lot—much more than normal—and I forget to feel self-conscious and wonder what everyone's thinking about me.

Because we didn't get here in time to help prepare dinner, I help clear the dishes and clean up afterward.

In the kitchen, Greta gives me a big hug and says, "Thank you so much, Chloe."

When I pull back, I stare up at her in confusion. "For what?"

"For taking such good care of him. It's like he's a new man."

I'm surprised and pleased both. And also filled with a possessive pride. "Really?"

"Yes, of course really. And it's not just that you finally got him to look like himself again and put on decent clothes. He also looks… content, and it's been a really long time since I've seen that."

I swallow hard, having no idea how to respond to that. I don't even know if it's true, but I hope it is. "I… I've been doing my best."

She gives me another quick hug. "I'm so glad he found you."

That's the extent of the conversation—quite effusive for Greta—and I focus back on the dishes I'm washing.

But I think about what she said. A lot. And I decide that despite my stumbles and insecurities, I must have done all right this week.

And hopefully I can keep doing better.

* * *

It's late when Jimmy and I are finally on our way home. He's pulling the cooler again, cleaned out and now holding our milk, cheese, and butter from the Hurleys.

The night is dark because it's a new moon. While we're on the road by the farms and houses, I'm perfectly comfortable, but once we start up the hill toward the woods, I actually feel a little nervous.

Jimmy always carries weapons, but still… Darkness is dangerous, and I'm not used to being out in it.

"You okay?" he asks after a while.

"Yeah." I smile up at him so he won't know what I'm thinking.

He reaches over with his free hand and pulls me closer. "You scared?"

"No. Not really."

"It's pretty safe around here. The bad sorts tend to stay over toward the border to The Wild. But if you're worried, we can leave earlier next time."

"No, no. I'm fine. And I know you can take care of any problems. I'm just not good at defending myself."

"Yeah. Not sure I like that." He's frowning now.

"I just never… never had a chance to learn. My grandpa never wanted me to use a gun."

"I get that. Not your fault. But what would you think about me teaching you? I don't like you bein' helpless when I'm not around."

"I'd be happy for you to teach me. Thank you." I'm smiling again, for real this time. "I'd feel better too."

"Okay, good. We'll work on that. I got a smaller pistol that Mary used to use. You can have that."

I'm about to answer when two figures appear at the rise of the hill. I'm so startled I shrink toward Jimmy automatically.

He pulls out his gun from the holster on his belt and aims it toward the two men approaching. He's also got his rifle strapped to his back and a second pistol on his ankle. He never leaves the house unarmed.

I don't recognize these men. Neither does he because he doesn't lower his weapon as they get closer.

I don't like the looks of them. It's hard to explain exactly why, but they look dangerous. Not like our neighbors around here.

They don't say anything as they pass, and they stay on the other side of the road.

Jimmy turns around so his back isn't toward them as they keep walking away.

I hear one of them say as they're almost out of range, "Lucky bastard."

It takes me a minute to realize he must be referring to me. Jimmy is a lucky bastard because he's with me.

What else could he mean?

"Don't like the looks of 'em," Jimmy mutters when they're finally out of sight.

"Yeah, me either."

"Might be part of the gangs. They shouldn't be this far into our territory."

"What will happen if they get too close?"

"We'll have to fight 'em again." He sighs, making a face. "Really don't wanna have to do that."

"Oh. Me either."

We're silent as we walk the rest of the way back, and by the time we get home, we both seem to have shrugged off the heavy feeling.

We get ready for bed like normal, and I'm waiting under the covers in only my socks when Jimmy comes in to undress and wash up.

I give him a good blow job when he climbs into bed, and then he makes me come by thumbing my clit and suckling my breasts. Then he moves all the way over me and positions himself between my legs.

He's done this position a couple of times before—usually when he's tired. Tonight he's quiet as he fits himself inside me and starts to thrust.

I hold on to his shoulders and rock my hips up to his rhythm. It feels nice. Safe. He's only a few inches away from me, and he keeps looking down at my face.

I feel close to him, and I like that feeling.

I don't come but it all feels good, and I'm almost sorry it's over when he finally falls out of rhythm, pulls out, and squeezes himself through his climax against my belly.

He lowers himself on top of me afterward, nuzzling my neck and mumbling out something wordless that I understand as sated satisfaction. His body feels satisfied too. Softer. Warmer. Deeply relaxed.

I love when he feels like that and am filled with pleasure at the idea that he's this way because of me.

Before I can say or do anything, he edges a hand between our bodies and explores between my legs.

"What're you doing?" I ask, more curious than anything else.

He adjusts his hand to slide two fingers inside me. "Wanna make you come again."

"You do? I already came—" I break off with a little gasp when he starts thrusting his fingers and my body immediately responds. "Oh God."

"You like that?" He's lifted his head so he can watch me.

I close my eyes and move my head back and forth. The sex we just had got me started, and now his hand is taking me all the way quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, feels good. Need it faster. Harder."

He intensifies his rhythm, fucking me hard with his hand. And soon I'm shaking and moaning through a deep orgasm.

I hug him again as my body relaxes.

"Now then." He's mouthing the side of my neck, giving it little kisses. "Now you're in good shape to sleep."

I giggle at that, but it's absolutely true. The second orgasm was enough to fully relax me, and I'm asleep in only a few minutes.