Simply Friends (8) “Ted,” Kim said more seriously, moving a little closer to him. “Somewhere, three months ago, in the back of a congested, influenza wracked head there was an idea to do this and now here we are.” She laid her hand on top of his. “Hey I’m grateful really. It does the trick. The money people are putting in on the no host bar alone will more than cover the funds I’m investing. And making it also a community fund raiser for the employees who work here to put their houses back together while they’re waiting for insurance money wasn’t a bad deal either. I’m honored you’re my friend. Believe me.” “I believe you, Kim. But it wasn’t all me. Janice helped, too.” “Oh yes,” she said, waving to Janice Cross who came up and joined them. “And some of the people here are celebrating Jan’s appointment by the President as the next U.S. attorney. The senate likes you, Jan.” “She’s well qualified for her job. Iowa will be lucky.” “And you?” Jan asked, looking at Ted and looking a bit serious. “Me? I’ve got a load of tax fraud cases sitting on my desk. There are depositions to take,” he threw his hands out in an overwhelmed gesture. “I’ve got work to do. And you go girl. Good luck. We already had this conversation. I wish you the best, Miss Cross.” “Miss? I don’t’ think my husband would appreciate you calling me miss.” ”Speaking of Ed,” Ted asked, “where is he?” “Off doing someone’s taxes. He said he’d be here in an hour. I think I see him now. I better go catch him.” Kim and Ted were left at the table. They eyed each other for a minute, both of them remembering a quieter moment in a rain swept night when their gazes caught, and an admission by both of them to their changing relationship. “I better go,” she said a little hesitantly. “I’ve got to congratulate your team.” “Kim,” he stopped her. “Kim. Lets go to a baseball game tomorrow. I can take the day off.” Kim smiled. “Ted, is this a date?” He blushed like the adolescent he had once been. Kim winked and laughed. “After twenty years you’re asking me for a date?” “Yes.” “Where do I meet you?” “I’ll pick you up. We’ll make it official.” She threw him a kiss and disappeared into the crowd. Kim thought Ted’s black mantle clock was beautiful. Its cabinet like symmetry with the plate glass showing off the elegantly carved pendulum and the black inlaid swirls on the front along with the smooth black mahogany top complimented the table that sat in the hallway. As she stood admiring it, Ted passed her and brushed her hair lightly with his hand, letting it lie gently on her hair. “So Mrs. Hamilton,” he blushed a little, it sounded so strange and natural to say it, “may I ask you why are you so fascinated by this clock?” “I don’t’ know, Ted. I suppose it’s because the clock is an art form. Where did you get it? I’ve never seen it here before.” It was my mom’s clock,” he said. “Irene and Dan are moving to Germany and they needed a place for it. She has another one and I said I’d take this one.” Ted and Kim stood listening to the clock as it slowly ticked away the minutes. The clock softly chimed as if it knew it was being admired. He stepped a little closer. Kim did not push him away. She turned to face him, shifting her attention from the clock to him. She held his gaze longer than she had ever held it, suddenly lost in the depths of his eyes. She felt his live, breathing body, courtly, gentlemanly, not at all threatening or overwhelming. He placed his hands on her waist gently, giving her time to accept his closeness. They had never been down this path. His hands were gentle, waiting for her response either way. She stepped closer to him and suddenly, sure of himself, he closed his hands around her waist and brought her gently to him till she rested against his chest. Kim’s heart stopped. She lifted her head and breathed in his scent, he put his cheek against her’s, they rested like this, she could feel the pulse in his fingertips, something in his pocket dug into her side. She eased her position, he moved slightly, realizing her discomfort, his cheek slid along her’s till quietly, gently, their lips met. Her mouth slid over his and they came together, sweetly, a promise, a consummation of a twenty year friendship in this simple kiss. She felt his trembling and curled herself around him, protecting, encouraging, consoling. At first his mouth lay gently on hers and then he kissed her more fully, waiting for her response, their considerations of each other’s worlds swept away, cresting. Ted purposefully took her hand, leading her to the bedroom. “Kimberly,” he breathed into her hair, tense, holding back to let her know that he was waiting. His hand found the buttons on her top, his fingers slowly caressed each one. They lay on each button, touching the skin beneath. Briefly, Kim thought of Ted with Leslie, but only briefly. Kim was the lucky one; Kim loved him; Kim would make him happy. If Leslie had given him children, Kim would love him. Ted hesitated for a moment, feeling Kim draw back. “What is it,” he asked, sensing her discomfort. “I. It’s nothing. I only thought of, of Leslie,” she admitted honestly. Why would she start hiding now? Now after twenty years. His hand lay gently on her skin, cool, and Kim placed hers over his, gently working her fingers between his. She slid his hand along her breast, and he relaxed. “Does this bother you?” he asked tentative. “Leslie?” Ted slid his hand down between her breasts, pushing up on the shirt, and Kim helped him take it off. “No,” she whispered. “No. I love you,” she whispered into his ear. She let her lips trace his ear, he shivered and his fingers warmed, helping her undress. Ted eased her against him, their flesh touching and then they were in each other’s arms, any hesitation forgotten in their embrace. After their initial coming together they lay curled into each other, the covers pushed away. Ted looked sheepish, then cast his gaze as a familiar sound caught his attention. Suddenly he laughed as if he were a school boy. Kim looked over his shoulder. Snooty lay on the bed, reprovingly staring at his master. Kim laughed, too. “Well,” she said, “Well I guess we’ve got some explaining to do.” It was 2:00 in the morning and the snow had stopped only twenty minutes earlier, allowing a respite to the harsh weather that had blanketed all of Iowa for three days. The house stood as a refuge against the crisp morning. The barometer dropped, the thermometer hanging over the door of the porch registered 10 degrees. Inside the house, the wooden floors were clear of debris, except maybe cat hair, the heater whirred on and off, keeping the temperature at an even sixty-five degrees. Inside the bedroom of this small house, two figures lay entangled, perhaps spent after a consummation of love, quiet, asleep, their heads curled on the pillow, their hands together, their bodies touching in a companionable way. The quiet warm air circulated while outside white frost began to coat the plate glass windows. Slowly in this quiet morning the woman woke, moving against the man who turned in his sleep and sighed. At the man’s feet a cat curled contentedly, lying against his ankles, making a lump under the bed covers. The cat purred, the man slept, the woman moved quietly and got out of bed. Her feet touched the floor, she picked up the night gown that lay on the floor, and slipped it over her head. The fleece robe went around her and she moved quietly into the hallway. In weather like this it was always good to check the pipes to make sure they didn’t freeze. The pipes were rapped against the cold but as she made her trip to the bathroom and then washed her hands she made a note to check all the pipes. She headed through the hallway, past the black oak cabinet holding the old mantle clock, passed the living room with the newly purchased sofa, the lace-edged pillows, she entered the kitchen and turned on the water, glad to se that it ran freely from the faucet. Kim Hamilton married to Ted Hamilton for three years put on the coffee pot and pushed the button, hurrying back to the warmth of the bed. “Okay?” asked Ted as he made room for her. “Pipes are fine,” she said. “Everything’s fine. It’s cold out there.” Ted sat up in bed, annoying Snooty the cat, and looked out the window. His hand lifted the blind, his sleepy blue eyes surveying the white coating, the shadows making patterns of white frost and tree branches on the ground. “OOOh!” he grunted. “This is a day to stay home and work.” “Are you going to do that?” “Probably,” Ted said returning to bed. “I brought work home with me.” Kim curled against him, content. “I’m glad you spent the night with me,” he said, his voice harsh with seduction. “Well,” she said quietly, easing herself so that she fitted to him, tracing his chest with her hands, “it’s better than being trapped in here by a fallen tree. This time it was of my own accord.” “Yeah,” he said, lost in his thoughts, easing her to him, their lips stopping conversation and beginning the journey to warmth, completeness, quiescent sweetness. “what’s for breakfast?” Ted whispered in her ear, quiet once again, his hands gently on her waste. “Hush, my darling,” Kim quieted his words with her hands. “The girls. We’ll wake them.” “No,” he said gently. “No we won’t. Steak and eggs for breakfast?” Kim laughed warmly and richly in the quiet room. “Is that all you think about is steak?” “Probably.” “Do you have any other preference?” “I could make pancakes.” Kim smiled. Some of the most special moments with Ted and the girls came when he made pancakes. Melanie was thirteen years old now and Andrea was fifteen years old. Their mother and her second husband were in Europe somewhere The girls preferred to stay with Ted and Kim. Andrea probably missed Heather more than Melanie did. Melanie loved Ted, she was still a cuddler. Sometimes when Ted was exhausted from court, or the harrowing political discussion or some shakeup in the federal office, he would sit in his chair and Melanie would cuddle up to him. “I hope I marry someone like you,” she said once only several months ago. “Like me? Well,” said Ted Hamilton who had received compliments about his work, had attained a few awards in his time, “this is the highest compliment ever. I hope you’ll find someone who will make you happy, dear heart.” Ted reached down and hugged his slender, tall ten year old daughter. She was almost as tall as he was. Ted Hamilton stood five feet nine inches in his stockinged feet. Did the girls have to grow up so fast? He planted a kiss on her cheek and held her away from him. “Never settle for anything that is second best, Mel. Marriage is important. Be sure you’re happy.” Melanie seemed to take all this in and she smiled. “Before that happens” she said, “can we go for ice-cream?” Ted Hamilton, assistant U.S. attorney for the southern district of Iowa, had to laugh, and he did. His weakness was steak from Kim’s Café. His daughter’s weakness was ice-cream. “Well,” he said, beginning the process of negotiation. “I have to work on some documents for a case. Give me about four hours and then we’ll go get ice-cream.” “But,” she said, “if I’m quiet can I play in your office?” It was a ritual between them, this command, this question. Ted didn’t’ see the girls very often, and so every moment was precious to him. Melanie was quiet, sometimes he wondered at the differences. Leslie had minded so much but Melanie didn’t seem to mind at all that he was working. She only wanted to be with him. His face softened a little and he nodded. “Get your dolls, honey. You can come in just play quietly till I’m finished.” Ted knew that Melanie wouldn’t just play quietly. She would play for a while as he sat engrossed in his work, underlining and typing, editing, rewriting, and crafting his arguments. After a while she would get up and look at his law books, trying to quietly sound out the words. Then she would return to her chair. She knew not to disturb him but sometimes she would only sit there and watch his hands. She knew that if she got up at the right time and he was at a good stopping point he would turn his swivel chair and put her on his knee. Perhaps as only a child can do, she would put her arms about his shoulders and look up into his face, adoration brimming in her blue eyes, eyes that were exactly his eyes. Ted had to admit that it was nice just having someone who admired him without question, that was in his corner, despite his past mistakes with her mother. Melanie was completely devoted to him and he appreciated it. After a while she would retreat to her own place in the house. Ted had to admit that he liked it when she was in the office. It made the work go much more quickly and he wondered how long it would be till Melanie would want to help him. She probably would make a good assistant, soon. He would think about that and maybe in a year she’d be ready to take her place beside him, at least in his home office. Now in the crisp morning, Ted pulled the covers back over himself and Kim. “Okay,” she said. “You can make pancakes when we get up. Right now it’s time to at least sleep or lie here and enjoy the peaceful morning.” Ted couldn’t help but think of one particular court case he had tried, the one that seemed to defy all peaceful mornings. One clear morning a man blew up a federal building killing so many people the implications were staggering. Perhaps it was a peaceful morning like this one. It had been a softer morning, but perhaps early that morning families had wakened and lay here contented with their spouses, children curled in their own beds, quiet, perhaps a few fretted. Their lives would end hours later. Ted shivered a little thinking of this. Kim responded, caressing his cheek. “What’s wrong?” “Hmm,” he said quietly. “Nothing.” “Ted Hamilton, don’t tell me nothing is wrong.” “Just thinking,” he admitted sheepishly to the woman who had seen his joy, his tears, who had cooled his fevered brow, who had comforted him at the death of his mother, or his failed marriage, who loved him and wanted to be with him, and who saw the harsh reality of his cases. Why would he even try to hide anything from her? “Beth,” he said wistfully. “Just thinking.” “Yes,” Kim said, because she knew. “It’s a morning like this that reminds me of all that,” he said quietly, easing a hand through her warm hair, the scent of strawberry shampoo mixed with the scent of love and sweetness. “I love you,” she said into his neck. “What happened to Beth?” “I don’t’ know,” he said. “I don’t’ know.” “Janice might know. Since she’s in her last year as U.S. attorney she might have some time to tell you. She would always have time for you. She calls you her mentor, you know.” “I know,” he said. “She graduated two years before me from the same school. She has done well for herself. I don’t know if she’d know anything about Beth. Besides, it’s not only Beth,” he said. “It’s everyone else, too. I wonder how everyone is doing.” “The human spirit recovers,” Kim said gently. “The human spirit is an amazing thing. Memories heal, Ted Hamilton, do you know that?” “Good memories,” he said.
Copyright © 2008 Shelley J Alongi |