By Rachel Torrent

Julie sat in the den reading a book by the fireplace on a Saturday afternoon. The book was a collection of letters written by Nicholas, Russia’s last tsar, and his wife, Alexandra. Love letters, mostly.

She thought of her husband and the letters she’d written him. Love letters, mostly.

Earl Ray was presently downstairs in his own den with a few of his buddies. She imagined the “guy” things they must be doing – watching basketball and drinking some beers. Discussing females and guns. Then she imagined the “bedroom” things Earl Ray would be doing later with her. He was so very efficient at going from being “one of the rough-talking guys” to being her “one and only soft- talking lover.” The anticipation made her tingle.

Down there, he’d be spouting the loud, macho boasting about his heroics in Vietnam or about his excellence at the shooting range. But later, in their bed, he’d whisper her name in the dark as he set her on fire with his hands on her body. And she’d taste the salt on his skin as he told her that he’d never experienced anything like her before.

She put the book down and stared into the fire. All these years now, and she could still get passionately excited just by daydreaming of him.

Sometimes she watched him when other people were around. Watched him chitchat with them, smile briefly at them, laugh politely with them. And sometimes she had to leave who she was talking to and go to him, just to touch him. Just to see him look up at her and smile “her” smile with “her” twinkle in his eyes. To see that look that said, “Ah, yes. There you are. The one person on Earth I call mine.”

And touch him she always did. She’d wrap herself around one of his muscular arms and press herself against him. He’d feel warm and firm, and he’d quietly say, “Hey, honey.” And she’d have his complete attention. And she’d be so absolutely glad that she was leaving with him. That night and forever.

“Uh, excuse me. Am I interrupting?”

Startled, she jumped. She’d been far away with Earl Ray and hadn’t heard one of the buddies come upstairs. And into the room with her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you.”

She was staring up at Roger Lococco, one of Earl Ray’s closest friends.

“Oh, hey, Roger. I didn’t hear you come up here. I was in the Bahamas or somewhere. Howya doing?”

“I’m doing. Your husband said you were in here.” He almost sounded like he’d gotten permission to be here talking to her.

“Come on in. Have a seat by the fire,” she told him.

She watched him walked slowly through the room and sit down in the big chair facing her lounge, in the chair Earl Ray usually sat in. My God, she thought, he’s stunning. He wore a black corduroy shirt tucked into light, faded, tight jeans and scuffed brown boots. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, as usual, and it was unbuttoned two buttons down in front. She immediately caught a glimpse of chest hair and tried not to stare. He was simply beautiful. Her mouth watered.

“Nice and quiet up here,” he said as he sat down and leaned back in the chair. He smiled just for a second.

“Are they getting too rowdy for ya downstairs? Maybe I should go down there with a paddle or something.”

He smiled again. “Boys will be boys. Earl Ray’s winning the game pool right now.”

“That’s wonderful. He’ll just buy another gun rack or a big knife or something,” Julie said. She couldn’t stop looking at him. His light brown hair’s blonde highlights caught the glow from the fire.

He said, “Oh, he might surprise you.”

“Yeah, he’s been known to do that.”

“So what’s been up with you? Anything new down at the ol’ watering hole?” Roger was referring to Renaissance, her restaurant.

Now she smiled at him. “Same old bullshit. Some lady bitched Thursday night ‘cause her swordfish was touching her rice pilaf. And then some dickhead threatened to sue me ‘cause I asked him to take his screaming toddler out of the bar. I swear I don’t know why I bother,” she sighed.

“But it’s the best place in town to eat.” Everything he said was quiet and breathy. She looked at him sitting there and thought about parts of his body she’d like to eat. She forgot about anything going on downstairs.

“Thanks.” She didn’t know quite how to handle compliments from him. Him and his piercing eyes.

“So……ya wanted my opinions on a security system for the place?”

“Yes. I did. I thought you’d be the expert to ask. Are you free sometime soon to come by and take a look?” Earl Ray must have mentioned it to him. Earl Ray, her husband, who thought nothing of sending this outrageously handsome man up to see his wife alone.

“How about tomorrow afternoon? That good for you?” he asked. What color exactly were those eyes? Her heart was beating a little too fast.

He was sitting in the chair with his feet flat on the floor, legs slightly spread in front of her. Her mind raced with a fantasy:

She was on her knees between those spread legs of his, smelling his skin, touching him, tasting him, swallowing him in. And in this wild little dream, he watched her without saying a word, enjoying it as much as she was.

“Then I’ll meet you there about two o’clock.”

The Roger who was sitting in the chair across from her, still fully clothed, broke the juicy fantasy. She felt flushed and squeezed her legs together.

“Uh…..sure. Two’s great. The place’ll be almost empty by then. You can get a good look around. I’d really like to get this deal installed or whatever before that big party.”

“When’s that?” He squinted.

“Two weeks. Roy Dean Bream hits the big four five. It’s a surprise. You’re coming, aren’t ya?” She smiled at him.

“I told Sahndra LaMont I’d be there. But I don’t know.”

“Oh, Roger. You’ll have a blast! My bar’s open, and you know the food’ll be fabulous.”

“What’s that you’re reading?” He looked down at her book, changing the subject.

“A collection of letters the Romanovs wrote to each other,” she answered.

“I read their history. Makes ya wonder what would have happened if that kid hadn’t be a hemophiliac.”

“Yeah. And Rapsutin wouldn’t have gotten his fifteen minutes of fame. But you gotta come to that party. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ll give it some thought. I’m not big on parties.”

Staring at him, Julie said, “Hey, ya know? I’ve got a photo album of the last party Sahndra and I threw at Renaissance.” She got up off the lounge and searched the bookcase behind her. “Here it is. It was Scottie’s birthday, a few months ago. You know Sahndra’s husband, don’t you?”

She walked back over and sat down. Roger surprised her by getting up and coming over to sit beside her. His hips almost touching her hips. Maybe it’s my imagination, she thought, but he smells faintly like soap.

“No. Not really,” he said to answer her question. “I’ve never been around him much.”

Most definitely by Scottie’s choice, Julie thought. Then she opened the album and showed him some pictures. She tried to describe the ridiculous antics going on in each scene, and he responded with chuckles and breathy little laughs.

As they sat there laughing, she was aware that their bodies were now completely against each other. She’d never been this close to him before, and his whole persona screamed sex. To her, anyway.

She was leaning over close to him and looking at his face and laughing when they both heard another voice in the room.

“What the hell’s going on in here?”

Neither of them had heard Earl Ray come upstairs and into the doorway. They stopped laughing and looked up at him. He smiled his charming little smile, as if it was all a big, funny joke. But Julie knew him and saw in his eyes that he was disturbed by what he was looking at. Those eyes moved from Roger to her. And she felt a little stab of guilt. Was that hurt she saw on his face?

Roger said nothing. Then she found her voice. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m trying to convince Roger to come to Roy Dean’s party.”

He ignored her. “Hey, man. Why didn’t you just say you came over here to see her instead of watching the game?” He laughed a tiny laugh, but Julie heard what she thought was real jealousy in his voice. Unlike Earl Ray. What had he seen before they noticed he was there?

“She’s more fun than you are,” Roger said dryly.

“Roger’s coming over to the restaurant tomorrow afternoon to give me some pointers on a new security setup, honey,” Julie tried again.

“Yeah, okay. Well, he owes me some cash right now. So get your dead ass back down there and pay up, Roger.” Earl Ray laughed, and the tension and jealously were both completely gone.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Roger said, again dryly.

He and Julie stood up. She left the photo album on the lounge. Roger sauntered past Earl Ray to the doorway. There, he turned around and said, “See ya tomorrow, Julie,” and smiled.

Earl Ray was still watching her, so she just waved to Roger and said, “Nice talking to ya.”

As Roger left, Earl Ray walked past her and said quietly, “Ya let the fire go out,” as he bent down and proceeded to put more wood in the fireplace.

She watched him and knew that at that moment that he had definitely been upset at finding her enjoying Roger so enthusiastically. But that he wouldn’t say another word to her about it. He’d let it go and not make unnecessary waves. Roger was his buddy, and she was his wife. And he’d never create trouble unless it was obviously called for.

She wanted to bend down and touch him then – to reassure him and to ease her own guilt. But she didn’t think he’d respond to her just yet. So she thanked him for rekindling the fire and sadly watched him leave the room.

* * *

She didn’t see much of him after that until later that night. The “guys” decided to take their drunken party over to the Coiled Snake Pit for a few hours. Julie sat at home alone and waited anxiously for her husband to return, to see his state of mind towards her.

When he did come home around 11 p.m., she was overwhelmingly relieved to see that he was acting normal, as if nothing at all had occurred. He was slightly drunk, but otherwise his usual self. He came over to where she was sitting in bed, kissed her quickly on the mouth and said he wanted to take a shower to get the cigarette smoke off him.

She waited some more.

After his shower, he came into the bedroom with a towel around his waist. His chest was still wet, and his hair was dripping down his face. He was as stunning as Roger would ever be. She felt her heart begin to race. She wanted him badly.

“I thought I heard something out here,” he said, looking around.

“Just the alcohol talking, honey,” she said, getting up and walking towards him.

She put her palms on his warm, wet chest and felt his heart beating. “The only noise out here is my body screaming out for you,” she whispered in his ear as she kissed his moist neck.

Dear, God, let him touch me, she begged. Please let him want to put his hands on me.

And he did.

As she was kissing his neck and ears, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. She shivered with relief.

“Please come to bed so I can make love to you,” she whispered to him.

He grabbed her shoulders and held her out in front of him, staring at her for just a second. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes. If he was still upset about this afternoon, now is when he’d tell her. So she waited again.

Then he very slowly smiled at her and said, “Okay.”

She smiled back at him and took his hand and led him over to their bed. They made love slowly and completely, both of them needing the other one physically and emotionally. Then they lay side by side in the lamplight.

Rolling over on her side and touching his chest, she said, “I missed you.”

“I brought you something. I almost forgot.” He got up and went into the bathroom.

When he came back out, he sat down on the bed and handed her a long white jewelry box.

“What’s this, Earl Ray?”

“I won big today on the damn basketball games. And you said last week you wanted this. So I went by the place and got it when we left for the bar.”

She opened the box and found the gold rope bracelet she’d wanted since way before last week. Tears fell down her cheeks.

“What’s the matter? It’s the wrong one?”

“No, honey. It’s the right one. I just don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

He brushed away her tears with his hand. “Stop it, now. I don’t wanna see crying.”

“Can we just go to bed?”

“Sure, baby.” He took the box from her and put it on the nightstand. Then he turned off all the lights and climbed back into bed beside her. He pulled her to him and folded her in his arms.

“I love you, Earl Ray.”

“Yeah, I know.”