Chapter 2

The telephone Leonard had installed was an unlisted number, but he didn’t put it past those creeps in Betty’s past life to find the number out and start to plague her.

She saw that he looked worried, even though he tried to hide it.

“Oh, Leonard, you mustn’t think about anybody but us,” she reassured him.

“I know that,” he said, “I know you aren’t going to run away from me, are you?”

She didn’t answer right away, and then she laughed with a hollow sound. “I wish you had more faith in me,” she said.

He realized that he had said the wrong thing, and he wanted to change the subject altogether.

She needed to be protected, and here he was worrying her, maybe scaring her with thoughts of other days, and he shouldn’t do that. It was terrible.

The night was coming on now, and they couldn’t sleep in an empty house. They had just come here for the day, and now it was time to go back to the city until they bought furniture and they could move in for good.

“Why do we have to go back to New York? Why can’t we just stay here the way we are?”

“You mean sleep on a rug in the living room all night?”

Betty shrugged. “It was good enough to make love on. We certainly could stay.”

He could tell that she didn’t want to go back. She had her reasons. Betty stood up and rubbed her breasts and behind. She put her hands between her thighs and squeezed her cunt.

She was like a little animal, trying to make herself comfortable.

He watched her movements with great love and a feeling of contentment.

“I know why you’re carrying on like this,” she said, “it isn’t my past that worries you, it’s your own.”

Leonard looked at her oddly. He hadn’t thought of that at all.

“Oh, yes,” she insisted, “all those girls, that whole string of rivals that long for you, don’t you think I worry about it sometimes?”

He could barely believe it.

They were so happy just a few hours before, and here was all this garbage piling up now between them. Shit, he thought, why did he have to start talking? He should have kept everything to himself.

But, too late now. The garbage was piling up, and he had to clear it out of the way.

“Let’s make a pact,” he said to her, standing up stark naked in front of her.

“Anything you say, anything for peace.”

He cupped her face between his palms and kissed her softly on the mouth.

“The pact is this,” he said, “I’ll never mention anything about our pasts, and neither will you. Okay?”

“Of course,” she said, “I didn’t bring this up to begin with.”

He knew all that.

He felt annoyed that she had to throw it up at him. Why couldn’t she just let it rest?

“But we should go back to New York tonight, really. This is a lousy place to sleep. We’ll both wake up stiff as hell in the morning and be sorry.”

She sighed and took her time touching the tips of her fingers from his elbow to his wrists. Then, lifting his hands away from his face, she said, “All right, if that’s the way you want it, I will have to make you happy. I’m really compelled to do it. We’ll get dressed and go.”

He heard the sadness in her voice and the regret. He felt lousy, having to be realistic and practical. At the same time, though, she was his responsibility. He couldn’t live in any dream world, couldn’t share a dream. After everything was settled, then she could live a fairy tale if she wanted to.

Right now, though, they had to get back to New York and settle matters.

He pulled on his own lump of clothes, and then they got into the car and started driving south.

It was Sunday night, and the roads were crowded with other cars returning to New York, coming back from weekend vacations, and getting ready for the thought of work the next morning.

He sensed her sitting silently, far away from him, leaning against the door.

He reached out his arms and touched the top of her thigh, trying to draw her closer to him.

“Why don’t you put on the radio, honey?” he said, “get some nice bouncy music. Maybe you’ll feel better.”

She shook her head and made a soft sound in the back of her throat, but didn’t answer him. He thought she was brooding, and he didn’t like the idea.

She had a way of complicating things. He didn’t want to get her started doing that. It could only mean trouble.

The traffic slowed as it became more and more congested. He put the radio on himself. He couldn’t seem to find a station that pleased him. Impatiently, he snapped the sound off and looked at her again.

“Come here,” he said, “come on, come here to me. Stop sitting so far away. I hardly know you’re in the car.”

She smiled a little, almost reluctantly. “You’re playing with me, Leonard.”

“Of course I am. That’s what I’m for, to play with you, don’t you like it?”

She slid across the seat to him now, and put her hands on his crotch. “I can play, too,” she said, “how would you like that?”

He swallowed hard, not expecting her to respond so readily. But she was like that, hot as a firecracker. Anything could set her off. He felt her fingers massaging his dick along the front of his pants. He looked around and realized that nobody could see into the car. His prick was much lower than the level of the windows, and so were her hands lower.