Read These Foolish Things Online
Authors: Susan Thatcher
Liz turned to Ty, “Cool it. Angie says.”
Ty obeyed. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered. He contented himself
with pulling Liz close to him and kissing her shoulder.
Liz collected herself. “I’m listening, Angie.”
“Listen, whatever the two of you do the rest of the
afternoon, I don’t want to know. But, you are here for dinner tonight, capice?
The snow is supposed to pick up and I need you in the kitchen again. The
Kissing Bandit can bus tables or peel potatoes. I’ll find some use for him.”
“Yes, Mama Angie.” Liz didn’t mind.
“Okay. You kiss that man for me and Honey,” Angie’s voice
suddenly got serious. “I’m praying he’s good enough for you. I don’t want to
see you with someone who’s gonna end up hurting you. You’ve waited too long and
been through too much.”
“Angie, this is why I love you. See you later.” Liz passed
the phone to Ty for him to hang up, trying to ignore Angie’s concerns. “Here,” she
kissed Ty. “That’s from Angie.”
“Really,” Ty was grinning. “I’ll return it later.”
Liz shook her head. “Don’t even joke. You do not mess with
Vinnie DiNardo’s woman. Angie’s not the only one in that family willing to use
the big knife.” She kissed Ty and pulled out of his arms. Liz slid to the edge
of the bed, safely out of his reach, gathering a blanket around herself as she
did. Ty watched her tuck it in, sarong style. He leaned over, grabbed the
corner of the blanket and tugged.
“You don’t need that,” he said.
“It’s time to get up,” she said. “Snow or no, I have things
to do in the outside world. It seems a good idea to be presentable. Therefore,
a bath is in order.” She tried to pull her cover out of his grasp, but his grip
was firm.
“Fine. Why are you covering up?” Ty asked. His tone was
even, but Liz could hear the steel behind it. She gave one hard tug and he
released the blanket.
Liz said nothing and looked away. She tucked the blanket
more securely around her. She heard Ty move behind her and felt his hand on her
waist. He made a move towards untucking the blanket, but Liz held it tightly.
Ty turned her to face him, his eyes locking with hers.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said quietly, “and
nothing to hide from me.” His fingers trailed from the side of her face and
downwards.
“It was dark. You didn’t see anything,” Liz finally said. He
hadn’t seen her body in full daylight.
“Maybe not with my eyes,” Ty agreed, “but I know you have a
mole on the back of your left thigh. Your skin is as creamy and smooth as it
looks, your body feels wonderful against mine and I do not give a damn about
your scars.” He touched her face again. “C’mon. You don’t need the blanket.” He
tugged at it. “I’ll show you where the goat bit me.”
Liz smiled, but held firm. “Right buttock, near the Great
Divide,” she said as she evaded his grasp. Liz rummaged in her suitcase and
produced a bottle of bubble bath. She hesitated a moment before turning back to
Ty. “I’m sorry. Did you want to get into the bathroom?”
Ty rolled onto his stomach and gave her an unfathomable
look. “You know, I hear the latest thing is for couples to bathe together. What
the hell, let’s find out what the big deal is.” He started to get out of bed.
Liz shook her head. “No. Please. Daylight’s not very kind
and I’m not ready for you to see everything at once.”
Ty smiled, “Okay, I can wait.”
Liz made her way to the bathroom, nearly tripping over the
blanket. As she filled the tub for a bath, Liz told herself that she was right
in not letting Ty see her. Not yet, she thought. Let me lose some weight. Let
me look better for him. She washed her hair while waiting for the tub to fill.
Liz turned off the taps and eased herself into the fragrant water. She closed
her eyes and leaned back.
“Move over.”
Water sloshed as Liz jumped. Ty was already stepping into
the tub and Liz looked away from him. He settled himself into the water and
sniffed appreciatively.
“Mmm. Smells like that perfume you wear. I like it.” He
rested his arms on the edge of the tub and grinned at Liz. A series of bubbles
broke the water’s surface midway down the tub. Liz stared at him, crossed arms
shielding her breasts.
“You said you were going to wait,” she accused.
“True,” he pulled her close, “I just didn’t say how long.” He
kissed her as he gently pulled her arms away from her body, putting them around
himself. They washed each other from head to foot, frequently exchanging kisses
or just lying in each others’ arms in the warm, soapy water.
Liz was still drying her hair when Ty excused himself with
another kiss, towel around his waist, to get dressed. She remembered how much
she had wanted to share the shower with him in October and had denied herself
the pleasure that time. She smiled dreamily at her reflection in the foggy
mirror. It had been worth the wait.
Wrapped in another towel, Liz followed Ty into the bedroom,
looking around. She frowned. No suitcase.
“Ty, where are my clothes?”
“Safe and sound,” he answered casually. He was dressed and
sitting in a chair. Liz could see mischief in his eyes. She clutched her towel
closer.
Liz hated being naked or nearly so. It made her too
vulnerable. Ty was looking at her and smiling. All of a sudden, the towel was
far too small for her comfort.
“Ty, may I please have my clothes?” she asked sweetly.
“You don’t need them,” he replied. Gesturing at the towel,
Ty added, “You can even get rid of that.”
“No, I can’t.” Liz answered.
Ty reached over and tugged at the towel. Liz tightened her
grip. “I said you had nothing to hide from me. Give me the towel.”
“No. Please give me my clothes.” Liz tried to maintain her
temper. “Ty, Sweetheart, it’s December in Massachusetts. I can’t leave the room
without risking hypothermia. May I have my clothes?”
“You want your clothes?” She could tell by his tone that
something was definitely up. He released his grip on the towel. “Yes, Darling.
May I please have my clothes before I find it necessary to kill you to get them?”
Ty grinned, “Here’s the deal: See, you’re trying to hide
behind that skimpy little towel. This tells me that, despite everything, you
don’t trust me completely yet. Therefore, if you want your clothes, you’re
going to have to learn to trust me with everything. And I do mean everything. I
could pull that towel off your body, but I want you to trust me enough to do it
yourself.”
Liz clutched the towel tight for a moment, then took a deep
breath and let the towel drop.
“Much better.” Ty leaned back, now grinning broadly.
Liz hugged herself, shivering a little, partly from nerves
and partly from the cooler air in the room.
“How long do I have to stand here like this?” Liz looked at
the bed. He had stripped it of linens. Maybe the curtains, she thought.
“You’ll get your clothes back when you realize that scars
and stretch marks and the things you’re hung up on don’t matter to me.” His
tone softened. “You are more than a body to me, Liz. If you don’t believe that,
then how can you believe in my love for you?”
Liz bit her lip and said nothing. Ty continued. “Actually,
there is one more thing you can do to get your clothes back.” Liz saw the glint
in his eyes. She tried unsuccessfully to bite back a smile.
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Ty chuckled. “I want you to read me one of your stories.”
“No.” The answer came so fast, she was surprised.
Ty got serious, “Fine, then. No reading, no clothing.”
Liz felt panic building. “Be reasonable.”
“No.”
“Let me have my underwear, at least,” Liz bargained.
“No.”
Liz sighed, “Why can’t I have my clothes?”
Ty leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Because
for once in your life, you are going to have to drop all that emotional armor.
It’s crap,” He cut her off as she started to protest, “I mean it, this crap
that you believe about yourself. My God, Liz, you have armored yourself so well
I can almost see it. Because I want you open to me, in body and in mind. You
are glorious and I want to bask in it.”
Liz ducked her head. Nobody, not even former lovers, had
ever called her “glorious” or complimented her body. It would take some getting
used to. “Okay, you win, but please, may I have something to wrap up in? I’m
getting cold.”
Ty looked pointedly at her breasts. “I see that.” He handed
the towel back to her and she wrapped herself as before. “Thanks. You win.”
“You’ll see. No losers in this one.” Ty pulled Liz into his
lap. “I like what you do for that towel. Here,” he handed Liz her notebook with
a kiss. “Read.”
“Don’t expect Andre Dubus or O. Henry,” Liz opened her book.
Which story? Turning towards the back of the book, Liz began to read what she’d
been writing when he found her. They relived the Barrister’s Ball through her
words, felt the magic again.
“…and under the mistletoe, in the quiet corner, his kiss set
her heart free.” She closed the book.
Ty put his hand to her face. He kissed her cheek, “What are
you doing practicing law? You should be writing and publishing.” Liz turned her
head to kiss the palm of his hand, “Well, Ty, right now, law is paying the
bills and creative writing is not. I have the rejection letters to prove it.”
“How can it pay the bills if you quit your job?” He asked.
Liz stared at him. “That’s right, I heard.” He chuckled. “Dan gave me an earful
pretty much as soon as you left his office. Seems to think I stole you away.” He
kissed her face. “I just might at that.”
“Sorry, Sweetheart. Judge McCafferty offered me a clerkship
and I accepted.” Liz kissed him back, but Ty was frowning.
“That’s kind of a step back, isn’t it, Liz?”
“Not from my perspective,” Liz said.
Ty frowned. “Let me set you up at my firm. This clerkship
doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.”
Liz sat up, “Maybe not to you, Ty, but you thrive on the law
firm experience. I hate billable hours, I hate going into court, I hate the
gotta-make-partner-before-5-years mentality. Those kinds of pressures are going
to have me back to compulsive eating. Plus, I can just hear the whispers about
you hiring your girlfriend. No. I like the research, I like the writing and I
really like Frank McCafferty. So, it seems like a very good idea to me. Now,” she
kissed him and put her forehead to his, “may I have my clothes?”
Ty laid his head against her shoulder and Liz closed her
eyes. Just touching him made her heartbeat race. She felt his hand slide along
her leg and under the towel.
“Not just yet on the clothes,” Ty murmured as he started to
rise from the chair. He had nearly succeeded when there was an ominous creak
and a section of the ceiling crashed onto their bed, collapsing it to the
floor.
Astonished, Ty set Liz on her feet, holding her close. She
wrapped her arms around him. After a few moments, Liz said, “Well, maybe it was
for the best.”
Ty looked at her, puzzled. “Why do you say that?”
Liz grinned, “We were never going to get out of that bed
otherwise. Now may I have my clothes?”
“Step aside, please, Ma’am. Thank you,” the mover said to
Liz. She stepped aside as requested as he and his colleague moved her
breakfront onto the waiting truck.
“‘Step aside, Ma’am?’” Millie asked. “You’re going to let
him call you ‘Ma’am?’”
“Hey, it beats the hell out of the usual ‘Move your ass,
Gardner’ that I get from you,” Liz responded.
“You know,” said Millie as she watched the proceedings with
Liz, “This beats moving all your shit ourselves in the cold, having to bribe
the guys to help us, buying beer and pizza and then hurting for three days
afterwards.”
“I agree,” said Liz in a distracted tone of voice. Millie
gently poked her arm.
“You know, for someone going to live with the man of her
dreams, you don’t seem very excited or enthusiastic,” Millie remarked.
“Mill, not all of us know how to dance the Funky Chicken,” Liz
said, still watching the movers, “You gave the neighbors quite a show that day.”
The men came back in from the truck, blowing on their hands
from the January cold and headed back to the living room for more furniture.Liz
was still kind of dazed from the speed with which Ty moved after their weekend
in Hyannis. It had been little over a month and here she was, leaving her house
and moving into his.
Almost immediately, Ty had begun to chafe at the distance
between his home in Wellesley and Liz’s house in Salem. He had wanted Liz to
come home with him after their weekend, but she’d refused, reminding him that
she had Beanie to care for.
Christmas had been an experience, both wonderful and
stressful. The wonder had come in being with Ty for the holiday, making love
the night before, waking in his arms only to be showered with gifts that took
away Liz’s breath, including a new car. Liz had noticed that Ty gave her old VW
a bad look whenever he saw it, declining to ride or drive in it. One day, the
car had refused to start altogether. She was at Ty’s house in Wellesley,
preparing to leave when he had asked her for the keys. Liz gave him a quizzical
look as she handed him the keys.
“I just thought it would be nice if I started the engine for
you and let it warm up a bit, so you don’t get cold,” Ty explained. He’d taken
the keys from Liz with a kiss and she thought she could see something devious
in his expression.
Ten minutes later, Liz was beginning to worry since he
hadn’t returned. Just as she was about to head out the door to see what was
going on, Ty returned, threw the keys onto a table and announced, “The Rabbit
died” on his way out of the room. He had taken Liz home to Salem and stayed
with her for a few days.
Indeed, Liz’s mechanic did pronounce the car dead, beyond
even his considerable skills. The man looked upset and Liz put her arm around
him and said, “Hey, you probably kept him going longer than he would have
otherwise. He had a long, good life because you took care of him.” He nodded,
although Liz thought she saw him well up slightly.