Free Dancing with the Dead by John Lutz Page B

bedroom.
    She sat straight up as if yanked by a string. “Jake, goddamn you!”
    He wheeled, startled. “Whew!” His shoulders drooped as his hulking form relaxed. She couldn’t see his face in the shadows. He made a half-joking grab at his heart, fingers splayed across his bare chest. “You scared holy shit outa me, Mary.”
    “What’re you doing here, Jake?”
    “Doing? Well, I forgot some stuff yesterday, and I figured I’d come get it, but the lights were all out and I knew you’d already gone to bed. Then I said to myself, what the hell, Jake, whyn’t you just let yourself in with your key and look around. But I couldn’t find what I left, so I thought, well, hell, no point waking Mary up, I’ll just sack out here and ask her in the morning if she knows where my stuff’s at.”
    “A pair of socks?” Mary said with disbelief. “You came back for a dirty pair of socks?”
    He laughed. “Them? Hell, no. It’s my wallet I can’t find. It’s gotta be here, though. Probably in this room. You wouldn’t want me to turn on the light so’s I can search for it, would you?”
    “I’ll look for it in the morning, Jake. I’ll call you if it’s here, which I doubt. I wanna go back to sleep. Now go home.”
    “Mary! . . .”
    “Go home, Jake! Please!”
    He walked over to the bed, wearing only his socks and jockey shorts. “Mary, lemme be totally honest. I miss you like crazy and I don’t wanna be alone tonight. You don’t wanna be all alone either. I know it.”
    She tried to will him away, but he kept coming and sat on the edge of the bed. The springs groaned and the mattress gave, tilting her toward him. She didn’t want to slide in his direction, so she dug her fingertips into the softness of the bed.
    Gently, he touched her hair, stroked it. “Ah, Christ, I’m lonely. I miss you so damned much. You miss me at all? The truth, now, Mary, okay?”
    He sounded like a schoolboy playing a guessing game.
    When she wouldn’t answer, he said, “Mary? Babe?” Then he stopped stroking and sat very still. He bowed his head as if in church.
    Something shifted in her, some rigid structure beginning to crack. He’d know it somehow; he’d be able to sense the weakness in her. She resisted. “Jake, dammit. Go! Please! You got no right to do this! No damned right!”
    “Yeah, I wouldn’t claim any kinda rights where you’re concerned. Wouldn’t force you into nothing you were dead-set against.” But he didn’t budge.
    “Oh God, Jake, what is it you want?”
    “Not sex.”
    “I know that.” And somehow she did.
    “I wanna lay down next to you is all. So I feel home. So the need and emptiness goes away and I can live through till morning. Don’t you ever feel that way? Like you’re all hollow inside except for something pulling you in on yourself, like one of those black holes in space that’ll suck anything into nothingness.”
    In the faint light filtering through the curtains, she was astounded to see tears gleaming on his cheeks. The agony written on his face wrenched her insides.
    “Lemme just lay down near you till morning, then I’ll leave first thing. Will you do that for me, Mary? I won’t even touch you, I promise. Not sex, only sleep. I haven’t slept more’n half the night since we fought. I’m asking for your help.”
    “I know you are.” She lay very still, listening to the night sounds beyond the walls, and the steady breathing of the man she’d so often lain beside. In the kitchen, the refrigerator clicked on and hummed.
    “Mary?”
    She was tired, so tired of arguing. She arched her back slightly, dug in her heels, and slid over to the cool side of the sheet.
    The mattress tilted, then leveled as he stretched out alongside her and his weight was evenly distributed. She could feel his nearness and the heat emanating from his body. A tremor ran through the bed. She turned her head and saw that he was quietly sobbing, afraid of something but not knowing quite what, ashamed