Blackfoot Affair - Part 17
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Part 17

"But there is good news," Marisa said, grinning suddenly. Tracy looked at her and brightened.

"How did it go with Jack?" she asked, favoring Marisa with a sly, sidelong glance.

"Marvelously, stupendously, sublimely. And aside from that, it was wonderful." Marisa sat in a chair and sighed blissfully.

"I'm jealous," Tracy announced.

The telephone rang. Tracy answered it on the first ring, listened, and then held it out to Marisa.

"Guess who?" she said.

Marisa leaped up and s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from Tracy's grasp. "h.e.l.lo?" she said breathlessly.

"How's my girl?" Jack asked.

"Happy."

"Glad to hear it. Are you finished with your lawyer stuff for the day?"

"Looks like it."

"Good. I'll pick you up at seven."

"What are we doing?"

"Oh, we'll think of something." The line went dead.

"Well?" Tracy inquired expectantly, as Marisa moved to hang up the phone.

"He's coming for me in a couple of hours."

"I guess I won't be seeing a lot of you in the evenings now," Tracy observed.

"Well, once we go back into court next week I won't have much free time. I thought I'd take advantage of the chance to see him while I can."

"Oh, don't explain, I understand. It's just...I don't know anybody in this burg and I've appreciated your company."

"And I've appreciated yours," Marisa replied warmly.

They regarded each other in silence for a minute.

"Okay," Tracy said briskly, "before we burst into tears here, I'm going down to the pharmacy for toothpaste. Do you want anything?"

"No, thanks."

"See you later." Tracy went out and Marisa walked over to the closet to see what she had to wear for that evening.

When Marisa left her room to meet Jack she found him waiting outside the elevator on her floor.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, laughing, as he swept her into his arms.

"I got impatient waiting in the lobby, so I thought I'd come up, but then I didn't want to burst in on you with Tracy there. So I compromised with this."

"You're very silly, do you know that?" Marisa murmured into his collar.

"All part of my charm," he replied, holding her off to examine her intently.

"What?"

"I wanted to see if you looked any different," he said teasingly.

"From this morning?"

"It's been ten hours."

"Ten hours, twenty-two minutes and thirteen seconds," Marisa corrected him.

"Ah, you've been counting too." He drew her back into his embrace and said in her ear, "Let's get out of here."

It was a quiet drive out to his house. They were both thinking the same thing. Once they arrived they went wordlessly up the stairs and into Jack's bedroom. He took the receiver off the hook and smothered it with a pillow.

"Come here," he said. He unb.u.t.toned her blouse and took off her slacks, smiling when he saw the lace teddy underneath them.

"What's this?" he asked.

"One-piece underwear," she replied. "Very efficient."

"Why wear any at all?" he said huskily, separating the garment from her skin.

"Juries might find it a little peculiar," she replied.

"Not to mention stimulating."

"And the judges? They're usually men."

"I'm sure your win rate would go up." He bent to mouth her breast and then picked her up and put her in the bed. She lay back against the pillows and held out her arms.

Jack doffed his clothes in seconds, kicking off his jeans so hard that they flew into a corner.

"Take it easy," Marisa said, giggling.

"Not a chance." He dove on top of her, flinging the sheet to the foot of the bed.

"Ah, that's better," she said, sighing. "You feel so good."

"And soon I'll feel even better," he said in her ear, and proceeded to prove it.

Marisa snuggled into the solid warmth of Jack's shoulder and looked around the dimly lit room. Books were piled on makeshift shelves in two corners, stacked randomly and leaning crazily against one another. A portable television sat atop a cabinet which stored a set of free weights and a tape deck with a pile of tapes wedged in next to it. Jack's toiletries in the bathroom, his clothes in the closet and the computer on the first floor were the only other personal items in the house.

"You must get tired of setting up camp in places like this for a few weeks or a few months at a time," Marisa said. "Don't you ever want a more permanent home?"

"I guess that's Oklahoma, if where my family lives is home."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-five. How old are you?" She could tell by the sound of his voice in the dark that he was smiling.

"Twenty-eight."

"Now that we have exchanged that important information, is there anything else you want to know? What diseases I've had, what I've been inoculated against, the number of my caps and crowns?"

"Don't make fun of me. I was just thinking that all this has happened so fast. I don't really know that much about you."

He propped a pillow behind his head and sat up, pulling her with him. "What else do you want to know? What I did on my first date?"

Marisa sighed, recognizing that she was encountering a familiar male att.i.tude: the past is over, why talk about it?

"You could start there," she said.

"I went to the movies with Mary Beth Reynolds," he said. "We saw Love Story at the Rialto, ate two tubs of popcorn and a box of Milk Duds candy. Mary Beth cried so hard during the death scene that her contact lenses washed out of her eyes."

"Sounds like a dream date."

"Actually, except for the contacts, it wasn't bad. Mary Beth and I hit it off and wound up going together for the next couple of years. She was living at a neighboring girls' school and we saw each other almost every weekend."

"What happened?"

"Oh, her parents broke it up. Cochise was not exactly what they had in mind for their little princess. Six years later she married an orthopedic surgeon and had three kids. I just heard a few months ago that he recently left her for his college age receptionist."

"Sounds like you've kept up."

"She saw my picture in the paper when I spoke at a college near where she lives and she wrote me a letter through the NFN."

"Trying to fan the old flame?" Marisa suggested.

He shifted position to look at her. "Why Miss Hanc.o.c.k, I do believe you're jealous."

"Would it be so strange if I were?" she replied, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him.

"I think I like it," he said against her mouth, pulling her down into the bed with him.

And that was the end of the conversation.

When Marisa awoke the room was as dark as a cave. It took her several seconds to identify the sound she heard as running water, and then she realized that Jack was taking a shower. She lay there, pleasantly satiated, until the door to the bathroom opened, revealing a yellow slip of light for a second before Jack snapped off the switch. He came out, barefoot and silent, toweling his hair, moving carefully so he didn't have to turn on another light.

"What time is it?" she asked drowsily.

"Ah, you're awake. It's ten-thirty." He sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

"You smell wonderful," she said, reaching her bare arms up to encircle his neck.

He laughed. "It's soap." He turned on the bedside lamp.

"Soap and you, that's different." She hugged him for a long moment and then said as an afterthought, "I'm hungry."

He grinned. "I'm not surprised."

"Is there anything downstairs?" Marisa asked, rolling over and feeling on the floor for her clothes.

"I don't remember. I'll take a look." Jack slid off the bed and into his jeans as Marisa headed for the bathroom.

"I'll be down in a couple of minutes," she called after him.

The bathroom had a modern stall shower, obviously a recent addition, and as Marisa adjusted the nozzle and stepped under the spray she examined the shampoo and other items stashed in the hanging mesh rack. It did not seem odd to be in Jack's house or his bed. She didn't know what that meant, but it was true.

When she was through, she dried off on one of Jack's huge bath towels and dressed haphazardly in her slacks with her blouse tied loosely at the waist. Then she followed him down to the kitchen, blinking in the harsh overhead light.

"I feel like a Morloch," she said.

"A hungry one," he replied, opening the refrigerator.

"Yes. What have we got to eat?"

"Well, let's see. In here we have ketchup, pickles, three grapefruits, an onion, and a bottle of mineral water."

"Mmm."

He turned and pulled open a cupboard above her head. "And in here we have crackers, mayonnaise, potato buds and oatmeal."

"Yech."

"I have been eating out a lot."

"So it would seem."

"There's a Chinese place about three miles away that stays open late, and delivers," he suggested.

"Oh, good. Then I won't have to get dressed up."

"I'm in favor of that," he replied, rummaging in a drawer. He held out a takeout menu for her to see.

"I knew I had this someplace," he said triumphantly.