Seventy-Seven
Shiloh felt like the days with Cary were flying out from underneath her.
She wanted to spend every minute with him—she did spend every minute thinking about him. She was a zombie at work; she kept apologizing to Tom.
“No worries,” Tom said. “Just—one day, you’ll come in, and I’ll be senior education director and you’ll be assistant education
director. And it won’t be a problem. You can even keep your side of the desk.”
“That seems fair,” Shiloh said.
On the days when she had the kids, Cary came over for dinner.
“We may as well set a plate for Cary,” Junie said one night, rolling her eyes. “He practically lives here.”
“He’s my best friend,” Shiloh said, “and he leaves soon, to go back to work.”
“Back to the ocean?”
“Practically.”
Would Cary ever come back to this house? Would he ever want to spend another night in North Omaha? His mom’s house was so
much . By the time Shiloh started helping over there, Cary had already been cleaning for a week, and there was still a river of
junk pouring out into the dumpster. Cary kept having to call the rental company to come empty it.
Shiloh got home from work Tuesday and spent an hour cleaning her own living room. She was standing by the window when Cary
turned into her driveway. She watched him get out of his rental car and bound up the front steps. He was wearing olive-green
cargo pants, a white T-shirt, and a baseball cap with the name of his ship on the front. He knocked on the door, then opened
it and walked in.
“Hey,” he said, taking off the cap. “Why are you smiling?”
Shiloh shook her head. “Hi.”
“You should lock your door.”
“I knew you were coming.”
Cary walked over to Shiloh and pushed her down onto the couch, falling on top of her. He dug her necklace out of her T-shirt,
and his face fell. “Did you lose your ring?”
“I’m wearing it,” she said.
He went looking for her ring finger and kissed it. “Why are you wearing it?”
“I don’t know, I just felt like being engaged.”
He kissed her hand again. “Asterisk.”
“Pfff,” she said. “There’s no asterisk.”
Cary looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “No asterisk?”
“Shut up,” she said. “You know there’s no more asterisk.”
He smiled so wide, his cheeks turned to origami. “You don’t think I’m a bad idea anymore?”
“I never thought you were a bad idea.”
“You know what I mean.” Cary was looking in her eyes.
Shiloh worked not to look away. To be still inside the moment. “It’s more like I’m past being rational about you.”
He looked serious. “We should get married before I leave.”
“No,” she said, “ stop . I want an engagement. And a wedding.”
Cary kissed the palm of her hand. Then the inside of her ring finger. “Yeah, but what if something happens to me?”
“In San Diego?”
“I don’t know, anywhere. On Thirtieth Street. I want you to get my death benefit.”
“I’m not even a bride,” Shiloh said, “and you’ve made me a widow.”
“Are the kids with their dad?”
“Yeah.”
“And your mom’s at work?”
“She just left.”
Cary started pushing up Shiloh’s skirt.
“What are you doing?”
He was unbuttoning her jeans. “If you won’t marry me, we can at least have sex on this couch.”
“I said I’d marry you! No asterisk!”
Cary was pulling down her jeans. They were stuck on her hips. “Marry me tomorrow.”
“No!”
He stopped, with all eight of his fingers curled into the waist of her jeans. “Do you want to have sex with me on this couch?”
Shiloh giggled. “Yes.”
“No asterisk?”
She kicked him. “Just do it already.”
“ Just do it already, ” he mocked. “We’re not even married, and you’re already tired of me.”
“Why are you in such a good mood?” she asked, sincerely.
Cary picked up her left hand and kissed it.
Cary sat on the couch with Shiloh on his lap. (He sat on his T-shirt, which she thought was funny and also conscientious.)
He’d never gotten around to taking off her dress.
They’d been having sex so often—whenever they were alone—that Shiloh didn’t have time to fully charge her anxiety in between.
She felt sort of half-dressed all the time. Only half wound up.
She leaned forward on Cary’s cock and arched backwards, their fingers intertwined, rocking.
“I feel like I’m doing a lot of work,” she said.
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s still just your primary duty.”
“Cary...” She was breathless. Because it was a lot of work. Because it was hot in here. Because it felt so good.
“Yeah.” Cary was sweating.
“I’m sorry my house is such a mess.”
He slouched deeper into the couch, pushing up his hips. “S’fine.”
“Does it drive you crazy?”
“No.”
“Will it drive you crazy to live here?”
“I’m not gonna live here.”
Shiloh leaned forward. She put her hands on his shoulders. Cary held her hips.
“But I’m always gonna be like this,” she said.
He looked up at her. “Like what?”
“Messy. Cluttered. Like your mom.”
“Shilohhh.” He groaned in a bad way. “Don’t talk about my mom.”
“Sorry.” She rocked. “Sorry.”
Cary sat up, he lifted her off. He was gentle. “What is this?”
“I’m kind of a hoarder,” Shiloh said.
His face was still red. “You’ve got nothing on my mom.”
“Give me time.”
Cary squeezed her hips. “I like your house. I like the you part of it—all the pillows and old posters. It’s comfortable.”
“What if you like it because it reminds you of your mom, and then you grow to hate it?”
Cary groaned again. He let his head fall back onto the couch. Shiloh adjusted her hips, so she wasn’t squishing him.
“Okay,” he said, “you know what? Your house does kind of remind me of my mom’s house. And it does drive me a little crazy. But I also like it. I feel at home here.”
Shiloh shook him a few times by the shoulders. “Do you have some fantasy that it will be different when we live together?”
He looked at her. “Yes. Because we’ll have a house with windows that open and decent screens. And I can do the dishes.”
“We’re probably going to argue about it...”
“Probably. But not for a while.”
She frowned.
“You keep acting like that’s a bad thing...” Cary said. “But every time you tell me that we’re going to have problems in the future, all I think about is how lucky I am to have a future with you. Finally.”
Shiloh looked at him. She was sucking on her bottom lip. She took off her dress.
Cary nodded at her. “Just throw that anywhere.”
They took a shower together, and Cary asked if the kids had any toys that weren’t in the bathtub.
The real reason he was in a good mood was that he had the paperwork to put his mom’s house on the market. He was going to
ask Lois to sign over financial power of attorney so he could handle the sale—but he wasn’t sure she’d go for it. He wanted
to head right over there to talk to her. Shiloh said she’d come along.
She put her dress back on and brushed her hair. She swept the front to the side with a barrette.
They stopped to pick up dinner from his mom’s favorite Mexican restaurant—which delighted Lois. She clapped when she opened
her door and saw the bags. She didn’t have a kitchen table, so the three of them ate in the living room while Cary explained
the paperwork to her.
The apartment was more crowded than the last time Shiloh had been here. Lois had wanted to keep a lot of things from her old
house. There were boxes stacked in the living room and the bedroom. Shiloh could tell Cary was irritated by it.
Shiloh cleaned up after dinner. And Lois put on her glasses to take a closer look at the contract. “I just don’t know...”
she kept saying.
Cary sat near her on the couch. “Mom. What don’t you know?”
“Well, honey, you know I love it here, and you make it all sound so good. But you’re going back to your station. And I have
to make it work with the people who are here.”
“What does that mean?”
“What if I have to move back home?”
“You won’t need to—I’ve explained it.”
“But who will take care of me? Jackie doesn’t have room at her house.”
“Mom, I promise”—he was holding her hand—“that won’t happen.”
“Cary, I love you. But you aren’t ever coming home.”
“Yes, he is,” Shiloh said from the kitchen. She was standing behind the little counter.
Cary and his mom both looked up at her. Shiloh looked at Cary. He wasn’t telling her with his eyes to stop.
“We’re getting married,” Shiloh said.
His mom dropped the papers. She took off her glasses and looked at Cary. “Is this true?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Shiloh, what about your husband!”
Shiloh walked into the living room. “I’m divorced, Lois. I’ve been divorced a long time.”
“What!” Lois exclaimed breathily. “Is this true?” She touched Cary’s face. “Are you giving me two grandbabies?”
He nodded. He looked tearful.
“Shiloh, come here! I can’t get up that quick!”
Shiloh went to her. Lois gave her a big hug. And then Lois hugged Cary. She was crying. “Finally, my baby boy. Oh, I’m so
happy.”
Shiloh held out her left hand, to give Lois proof.
Lois took her hand and made more joyful noises. “That is beautiful! That’s antique, isn’t it? Is that white gold?”
“Yeah,” Cary said.
Lois squeezed Shiloh’s hand. “When is the wedding? Will it be in Omaha?”
“It will definitely be in Omaha,” Shiloh said.
“The point is, I’m coming back,” Cary said. “I’m coming home.”
Lois signed the papers.
She talked to Shiloh about the wedding.
She made Cary go down to the dining room to get them real dessert, to celebrate. He came back with banana pudding and then stayed to make Lois test her sugars.
On the way to the car, Cary told Shiloh she could have her way whenever she wanted it, from then on. She’d earned it.
On the way to her house, he argued with her about waiting to get married.