good marriage, I guess?'
'Good enough.'
'What's that mean?'
'It means it's fine.'
'Did she ever cheat?'
'She might have, yes.'
'Did you mind?'
'No.'
'Why?'
'I can't explain it. Not after… When I was much younger, I might have cared.' He looked out the window. 'I was away for some long periods, and there was a lot of uncertainty. It would have been understandable. Generally I'm not a patient or forgiving person, but this was sort of okay.'
There was something he wasn't telling her or something she had not understood. 'You ever ask?'
He shook his head, as if at the insubstantiality of her question.
'Why?'
'I didn't need to.'
'How long were you gone?'
'Couple of times six, seven months.'
'But this was a long time ago,' said Christina, sitting on the edge of the bed.
'Very long ago. Ancient history.'
'So you were in the Navy-'
'Air Force, please.'
'Air Force, I mean, then you became a businessman?'
'That's about right.'
'I'm young enough to be your daughter, which, I realize, I should probably not mention.'
He shifted in the seat uncomfortably. 'You are younger than my daughter, Melissa.'
'You never told me about your back.'
'I had some operations.'
'How'd you hurt it?'
He closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened his eyes, he was looking away. 'This is not something I discuss much.'
She thought, For all I know he has a terminal disease or something. 'Charlie,' she said in frustration, 'is there some kind of problem? You don't want to talk?'
'I'm sorry, Melissa.' He stood up and paced. 'It's about me, not you. You're terrific. I can tell that, I really can. My mood is not your fault, at all.' He loosened his tie. 'I want to be here with you, but I'm worried about wanting to be here with you. I've always played by the rules. But I seem to be in some-' He stopped. 'It's not just you, it's other things.'
She moved over to him, could not help but take his hand and stroke the scar. Neither of them said anything. She found herself thinking he must have been a beautiful boy, and then studying him now, a businessman in a lovely suit, distinguished-looking, in fact, despite his limp. She could not explain it to herself, except that it felt right. She pulled at his coat. He was not helping her, but he was not resisting, either. She laid his jacket over the arm of the chair.
'Okay?' she whispered. He said nothing. She undid his tie. Silk. She laid that on the jacket and then unbuttoned his shirt. She heard him breathing through his nose, his lips pressed tight, his eyes troubled. She unbuttoned the shirt and understood that she really did have to help with one shoulder. He had on a T-shirt and she urged him to lift his arms, and when he did, she sensed the salty musk of him, the man-smell, which she liked. He turned to her in the near-dark and she moved her hands over him. A large C-shaped scar and smaller incisions arced across his left shoulder. His spine carried three scars, one nearly a foot long, at the base.
'Is that all?' she whispered.
He closed his eyes.
She knelt down and untied his shoes, pulling them off and setting them to one side, heel to heel. Then she stood and undid his belt matter-of-factly and unbuttoned his pants and let them fall. He stepped out of them slowly. She ran her hands along his leg and suddenly stopped, not believing what she was feeling. The smooth muscle of the thigh was cratered with an entry wound on one side and an exit wound on the other. A lot of it was just gone. She moved her hands down his calves to his socks. She slipped them off. His left foot was missing two small toes. She stood and faced him, laying her hands softly on his chest. She felt him breathe. His skin was warm. I want him, she thought, I do. She slipped her hands toward his underwear and pushed them down until they fell. His penis felt limp, normal. She put her hand underneath it. He had one testicle. Just one. She held it in her hand like an egg and looked at him. His eyes were closed, and he was shaking ever so slightly. She could feel scar tissue beneath the skin of his scrotum. She turned him. One of the surgical scars from his back continued down to his left buttock. Another scar traveled across both buttocks, cutting a groove in them.
'You crashed?' she whispered.
'Shot down.'
'Were you captured?'
He nodded.
'How long were you a prisoner?'
He shook his head.
'Where'd they put you?'
He looked at her.
She touched her finger to his mouth. 'Just tell me.'
He closed his eyes.
' Please tell me.'
His eyes stayed closed. No answer came from him.
She pressed her lips against his chest. He was ruined. He was so beautiful. She felt the warmth of his skin. I love this man, she told herself, it's crazy but I do. She pressed him down to the bed.
'I'm not sure I-'
'What?' she asked gently.
'I'm not a young man,' he apologized. 'It's partly the back, you see.'
She helped him with her mouth and she did not mind, especially because he did not expect her to do this. He twisted in the bed and became full in her.
She slipped out of her clothes.
'Do we have any birth control?' he asked anxiously.
'It's okay. It's fine.' She'd worry about that later. The odds were low. She was plenty wet, she realized as she straddled him. She used to have orgasms so easily during sex, but she wouldn't expect too much, she would just be close to him.
'Not your full weight,' he whispered. 'Please.'
She squatted on her haunches instead of resting on her knees and sitting back. 'Yes,' she answered, moving up and down the length of him. The rhythm was good. She felt him up far inside of her, and this made her warm and start to shake. His big hands held her hipbones gently, and she took them and moved them up to her breasts, pressing his fingers against her nipples.
'I want to roll over,' she said after a few minutes.
'I'm not sure how well I can,' he said.
'Let's try.'
She lifted herself off him and lay down on the sheet. He knelt between her thighs, and she kept a hand on him, keeping him hard-hard enough, at least. She guided him, and he lowered himself into her.
'Oh,' he said.
'Hurt?' she whispered.
'No, no. It's good.'
She wrapped her arms around him. The scars rolled under her fingers. She knew he wouldn't last long. 'Come
