“Mr. Melendez…” started Jerome.
“Both you and Leopold have secured the room and floor, yes?” he said quietly.
“Yes, sir.”
“And there is another room next door, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well?”
“One of us will be outside the door at all times if you need anything, Mr. Melendez,” Jerome said, stiffly. He turned to leave and Leopold followed, one final glance at June. Those eyes again.
Jack shut the door on both of them. He turned his attention back to June.
“So…” she said, feeling a little lost for words.
“Is your room comfortable?” he asked.
She kept her eyes on him. “It’s great. Too big. What am I supposed to do with all the space?”
“Anything you want. Have you looked in the refrigerator yet?”
“Wasn’t hungry.”
He went to his. Opening the small household-sized fridge, she was surprised that it was well stocked. Milk for cereal, cream for coffee, butter and jams, fruits and vegetables for snacking or even cooking. On the top were several packets of instant ramen. Far too much for just a weekend.
“You have the same in yours,” he said.
June opened the freezer. There were two tubs of ice cream inside. One carton was mint chip, her favorite. The other was rocky road.
“Okay, so how’d you know I like mint chip?” she asked with a smile, closing the freezer door again.
“You mentioned it once.”
She took a step closer to him. “Oh? When?”
“When I was still in hospital in Balboa. There was no reason for you to keep coming for visits, but every Saturday, there you were. Well, one time you said you were going to stop for ice cream on your way home. I asked what kind, and you said mint chip.” His smile had drifted away while he explained. “I got it right, didn’t I?”
“Yes, it seems your memory is intact, sir,” she said, hoping the doctor-like formality of it sounded playful. She took one last step, putting herself directly in front of him. “Maybe I should proceed with the rest of your neurological evaluation now.”
“There isn’t much you haven’t examined.”
“There are still one or two autonomic responses that I could check,” she said.
“Which are?”
“You’ll find out.” She felt a little warm, almost hot, over-dressed for the moment. Her arms ached, wanting to hold him. “Or maybe we’ll find out at the same time.”
Once she saw his smile, she leaned in, reaching her arms around him. In her bare feet, she wasn’t as tall as he was, her face only reaching to his shoulder. It felt good there, and taking a deep breath, could tell he had showered in the time since dinner.
His arms were around her, one staying at the small of her back, while the other slid up to her neck, and then to her head. She looked into his eyes, and couldn’t wait any longer.
“Jack…” was all she could whisper before their mouths met.
He held the embrace. When they separated again, they agreed on ice cream and television for a while. By the time she got back to him on the couch, with both cartons and two spoons in her hands, he had the television tuned to a Spanish language international news show.
“When you said TV,” June said, “I thought maybe the late show or old reruns of Mister Ed we could make fun of. But I gotta tell ya, watching the news just doesn’t put a girl in the mood.”
She handed over the rocky road ice cream to him and took the lid off her mint chip.
“Just give me a half hour of news so I can get caught up,” he said. They sat quietly, eating ice cream. June ate half her small carton before setting it aside. She was beginning to wonder if all executive wives eventually became news widows.
Wife? she thought. Where the hell did that come from?
“So, where’s Kevin and the rest of the campaign gang?” she asked. “Shouldn’t someone be prompting you on what to do and say next?”
“They went on to D.C. from Spokane. Why? I thought you wanted the weekend to ourselves?”
“I do. But it almost feels a little lonely now that someone isn’t lurking nearby to feed you a campaign sound bite.” She smiled.
Jack sucked down another spoonful of rocky road. “Just enjoy the privacy while you can get it. I went to a lot of trouble to arrange this weekend for us to be together.” He sounded irritated.
Instead of pursuing the topic any further and risk sleeping alone, she changed the subject. “Would you like a glass of wine?” she said. “They have a nice selection in here.” She went back to the fridge, put the half-eaten mint chip away. Jack flicked off the TV and joined her in the small kitchen.