After a pause and a long look into her eyes, he let her. “Sort of, I guess. I mean, I drove here, and I definitely would have been willing to take a walk, but mostly I just wanted to see you.” He looked into her eyes. “You don’t want to go for a walk now, do you?”
“After what happened, you mean?” She thought about it. “I think I do. I usually walk when I need to relax or de-stress or want time to think. It helps me. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No. Like I said, I’m up for it.” He took her arm in an exaggeratedly courtly fashion. “Shall we?”
It occurred to her that the last time they’d walked together they’d seen that skinned-seal thing covered with ants, and, the time before that, the deformed wormlike cow inching its way across the dirt. Then they were out the door and starting up the road, and it felt so good to be out of her house and away from her yard, that she pushed all reservations aside. Besides, it was daytime. What could happen in the daytime?
Puka.
She pushed all reservations aside.
They walked in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. She didn’t feel like talking right now, and Ross seemed to sense that. She was grateful to him for it, and she untwined her arm from his and simply held his hand. The weather was cool but not cold, and his warm hand felt nice in hers. Although the sun was out, billowing white clouds were rolling upward in the east. If this was summer, she would have thought they were monsoon thunderheads, but this time of year, she didn’t know what to make of them. They were beautiful, though, like something out of Arizona Highways, and she thought that maybe she would like to paint a picture of clouds sometime.
They encountered nothing unusual on their stroll, and instead of staying on the road, she led him onto a trail that wound partially up the mountain before circling back to her neighborhood. There was something reassuring about everything being the way it was supposed to be out here. The brush was normal, the rocks were rocks, they even saw a jackrabbit and a lizard and there was nothing the matter with them. It had the effect of making what had happened with Puka seem small. In fact, looking out at the vastness of the desert, even the angel and its spooky influence on everything around it seemed small.
By the time they arrived back at her house, the sun was starting to go down. Jill was feeling much better, much braver, much more herself. There were no lights on in any of the rooms and the windows were dark, but that didn’t faze her. She did shoot a quick uneasy glance at the garbage can at the side of the house, but then she walked inside, turning on first the living room light, then the kitchen. She poured both Ross and herself glasses of water, and when they were through drinking, she gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad you came over.”
He gave her a kiss not on the cheek, and then they were embracing, their bodies pressing together, their tongues entwined. They moved to the bedroom, quickly shedding clothes.
There was no reason for foreplay. He was hard, she was wet, and they just did it.
Afterward, they put their clothes back on. Ross offered to stay, but the walk had calmed her down, her fear had faded, and she told him that she’d be fine. Besides, she needed to make at least an hour or two more of calls. She smiled tiredly. “Dinner and after-dinner pitches. Everyone’s favorite.”
“So you’re one of those…”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I am.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.
She put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure.”
It was just as well, Ross admitted, because he had work to do as well. “If I can go through everything that’s piled up and send off some suggestions by early tomorrow morning, I’ll be in good shape.”
Jill gave him a quick kiss, though she was slightly annoyed that he’d given in so easily. She’d been sincere in saying that she needed to work this evening and that he could go, but it would have meant something if he had insisted on staying. It was unfair of her, she knew. He was only doing what she’d told him to do. But, nevertheless, she felt disappointed.
Together, they walked out to the living room. Outside, through the windows, the darkening clouds were building up. The eastern half of the sky was a deep gray wall that looked distinctly threatening. “I think it’s going to rain,” Ross said.
An hour ago, she would not have thought that likely, but now it seemed inevitable. Maybe you should stay, she almost told him. Instead, she said, “You’d better get going before it starts coming down.”
They parted with one last kiss, and although she closed and locked the door behind him, she watched him go through the front window. It was dark enough now for him to put on his headlights, and as he pulled away, she thought that his taillights against the blackness of the building clouds looked like the eyes of some gigantic feral creature staring back at her.