Page 94 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
“I was a shitty husband in the end, Marcy. I’m so sorry forthat. We made some beautiful kids, though. Kids I’m fucking up. Well, Will’sall right. He’s happy. Brigid…what am I going to do about Brigid?”
She didn’t move, and he closed his eyes. “I’m going to get moreappointments with Dr. Charles for her. I’ll call on Monday.”
He fiddled with the edge of her sheet and thought about theupcoming weekend. Christopher was in Knoxville with his family, but Jessenearly vibrated out of his skin in anticipation of Saturday. He couldn’t waitto hold Christopher in his arms, kiss his neck, hear the little noises he madewhen Jesse sucked on his tongue, and—
Christ, he was getting hard sitting next to his wife’snursing home bed while thinking about his new lover.
Jesse cleared his throat. “He gets me, Marcy. And he turnsme on like no one else…maybe ever.” He looked at her to see if she’d flinch,though he knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. “When I’m fucking—no, when I’mmaking loveto him, because that’s where I’m going withthis whole thing—I say the stupidest shit, and he gets off on it. And then hesays stuff back and I come so hard I see stars.”
He shouldn’t be telling his brain-dead wife about the sex hewas having with his new lover. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.
“I love the way he walks and sings and moves and laughs andfucks, and, well, basically I’m all in. I’m all the fucking way in. Balls deep.”
The machines hummed and hissed, and more urine trickled intothe bag.
“Do you remember before we were an us, how I used to tellyou all the filthiest stuff I did with guys, and you’d laugh and encourage me,egging me on for more? I don’t do anything nasty with him, Mar-Mar, becauseeverything I do with him feels like…”
Love.
“Like what we had together at first. That kind of wonder andamazement. That kind of fun and mischief. I’m so sorry you’ll never feel thatagain. That we lost it.” He stroked his hand over her arm, down to her fingersand squeezed. He breathed around the lump in his throat. “You deservedsomuch more than this.”
“She surely did.”
Ronnie’s voice was the absolute last one he expected to hearat that moment. He spun around in his seat, rage and humiliation flaring athaving his intimate moment with his wife overheard.
“How long have you been there?”
“Just a second or two.”
“Unless you’re here to say that there’s been a Thanksgivingmiracle and you’re ready to let her go, I really don’t want to see your faceright now.”
Ronnie smiled sadly. “I’m here to see my sister. It’sThanksgiving and I’m thankful for her.”
Jesse leaned so he could see out the door. “What? Notelevision crew? No photographers or reporters who can make me out to be theevil, horrible, husband—”
“I never wanted that.”
“Ha!”
“That was the pastor’s idea. He thought it would…well, itdoesn’t matter now.”
Jesse blinked. She’d never admitted that before. His handsin fists, he watched Ronnie come into the room and pull up another chair on theother side of the bed.
She blew out a long breath. “Here’s the truth, and I’lltestify to it in a court of law: you are a good, loving husband to my sister,Jesse. I’ve always known that.”
What the fuck?He wasn’t surewhat Ronnie’s game was, but he wasn’t falling for it. He waited silently, hisheart thumping and blood rushing in his ears.
“I didn’t know they were going to put that kind of spin onthe whole thing. I didn’t want them smearing you or bringing up your pastrelationships with men. I just wanted to get the word of the Lord out, and touse Marcy’s situation to bring more people to Christ.”
“Fuck that mumbo jumbo.”
“Believe what you want, Jesse. But I know how you treat her.You come every week like clockwork. The nurses tell me. You bring her flowers.”Ronnie nodded at the pink and yellow roses he’d brought this time. “You talkwith her. And you provide her with the best medical care money can buy.”
“Because you insist on keeping her here.” Ronnie was surelytrying to butter him up for something. A little voice reminded him that she’dsay anything to get her way.No.He wasn’t fallingfor it. “I’m not going to let her body be disrespected.”
“I know.”
“Andyoucertainly don’t see toit. It’s all me. She’s never had a bedsore.”
