Free The Slipper by Jennifer Wilde Page B

subject. He didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. He didn’t mean to be cold. Julie realized that. He was working very, very hard and things hadn’t been easy and he was under a lot of pressure and … and he hadn’t wanted to get married in the first place.
    Julie went down the short flight of steps and took out her key and let herself into their flat. It was rather chilly inside. The radiators were on the blink again. Although Julie had tried her best to make the place comfortable, make it pleasant, it still looked exactly like a basement that had been converted into a flat to bring in extra money. There was a living room, a bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchen. Worn linoleum covered the concrete floors. The concrete walls were a dingy grayish brown, a network of exposed pipes festooning one side of the living room. There were only two windows, set high up on ground level, and there was never enough light, but it was cheap and Julie consoled herself with the knowledge that one day, after Doug got his law degree, they’d have a much finer place.
    Doug was stretched out on the faded salmon-pink sofa, a pile of cushions behind his back, a law book in his hand, a grave expression on his face as he studied by the light of the floor lamp. He was wearing tennis shoes and tan corduroy pants and an old chocolate-brown sweater, yet he still looked like a prince, just as he had that first time she saw him in the McCanns’ pool house. He was tall and had a sturdy muscular physique and thick, wavy brown hair that was rich and glossy and always a bit unruly, errant locks invariably tumbling over his brow. His features were handsome, the cheekbones broad and flat, the jaw strong, the lips full and pink, generously curved. Behind the black horn-rimmed glasses his slate-blue eyes were stern and intelligent, but they could gleam with smoky passion, too, reflecting hunger and need. Julie still found it amazing that this glorious male was her husband now.
    Doug looked up and saw her and put his book down. He sat up, stretching, throwing his shoulders back. Julie smiled. Despite his shrewd intellect and grave, serious demeanor, he had a healthy, animal quality and a lazy sensuality that filled her with delight. Doug liked his comfort. He liked his pleasure. Adjusting his horn-rims, he watched as she took off her coat and scarf and put them aside. He looked sleepy. He’d been studying since early in the morning, cramming for tomorrow’s exam. Doug studied constantly, grimly determined to be the top man in his class.
    â€œHungry?” she asked.
    â€œA little. It’s cold in here. You’d better put on a sweater.”
    â€œI’m all right.”
    â€œThe goddamn place is either boiling hot or freezing cold. I called the super about the radiators, but he hasn’t done anything yet.”
    â€œI’ll fix you a bowl of hot soup,” she said.
    Doug didn’t answer. He yawned, shook his head and then reached for the heavy law book. Julie longed to go over and stroke his cheek and brush those errant brown locks from his brow, but he had his mind on the exam now and she knew it would irritate him. Instead, she went into the kitchen and opened a can of vegetable beef soup and emptied it into a pan and put it on to heat on the ancient gas stove. She loved cooking for him, waiting on him, making him comfortable. Sometimes she wished she didn’t have to work so hard and be away so much of the time, but she was doing that for him, too, and it made the long hours easier to bear. When Doug married her, Julie had vowed that he wouldn’t have to drop out of school and that he would be able to go on and get his degree in law, even though her parents had disowned her and Doug’s father withdrew all support.
    But we’ve done it, she thought. Fortunately tuition for his senior year at Claymore had already been paid, and after … after the miscarriage, she had been able to find a job