Page 13 of Longing for Liberty
I surveyed the dinner Jeremy made. The fact that he’d started cooking before I got home was something we kept to ourselves and was only able to happen because there was no window that could see into the stove area of the kitchen, only the sink. It was hard to break old habits. Jeremy worked in construction and could create beautiful things out of wood. But there had been a time when I’d made decent money as an author, and Jeremy had happily scaled back his work schedule to take care of the children and home while I chased that dream. He loved to cook.
Nobody needed to know that.
I served everyone and sat.
“Libby,” Rebecca scolded, looking at my plate. “That’s not enough for you.” She began to twirl noodles on her own plate as if to give them to me, but I held up a hand.
“No way. I promise I don’t need much these days. I’m not very hungry.” It was kind of true. My body had gotten used to hardly anything. I recalled what the Secretary had said about providing me with breakfast, and a thrill ran through me, followed immediately by guilt.
Rebecca and Stanley shared a look, and he patted her hand. “Eat, dear. I’ll make sure Lib gets plenty of cake.” He winked.
Rebecca gave me a smug look, and I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
We were all too thin. No meal was enough to make us feel full anymore. Jeremy stayed fit by doing manual labor, and with his lack of calories, it was like he was always cutting. The lines of his biceps and triceps were evident, and he had six-pack abs. It’s crazy to think that if the war had never happened, he’d probably be rocking bigger arms with a little dad bod belly. The thought made me sad as I punctured a piece of ground meat with a tomato.
After dinner, Rebecca and I cleared and washed the dishes by hand while the men chatted about work at the table. When the dishes were done, we sat, and I took out the cards. Jeremy dealt, and we played two rounds of Spades. One of the ways Jeremy had won me over was by how quickly he could shuffle and deal. He could also do that thing with a card moving between his fingers super fast. I still loved it.
“You seem more tired than normal,” Rebecca said to me, pushing her cards forward.
Jeremy stiffened next to me as I nodded.
“Yeah, it was a long day.”
“Let me rub your feet,” she insisted. “Free massage! You can’t pass that up. And Stanley, will you grab the cake?” He immediately stood.
“Oh, no, Rebecca, please. You worked all day, too. Just relax.” I tried to wave her off, but she was already pulling her chair in front of me.
“Just enjoy it, Libby,” Stanley said, setting the cake down on the table. “It’s heavenly.” Jeremy gave me a grin and nodded. I sighed in light annoyance at their tactics.
Rebecca was a certified massage therapist, and she often came to my work building to set up at the homes of the elite. As far as I knew, she’d never had to massage one of the major government players, though. I reached down for my shoes, slipping them off and dropping them beside me before sitting back.
“Just for a minute,” I told her, feeling guilty.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said.
The moment she applied pressure to the heel of my foot, an accidental moan rose from my throat, and my head fell back.
“Right?” Rebecca said as Jeremy chuckled, and Stanley let out a snort and high-pitched laugh. It was the gayest sound he’d ever made in front of us.
Rebecca’s hands stilled on my foot as she shot a glare at Stanley, whose face suddenly flushed with what appeared to be horror. I wanted so badly to say, “It’s okay!” But the thought of audio bugs lived in the back of my mind. We all went momentarily still. We’d never once voiced our suspicions about their sexuality for so many reasons, not even while outdoors away from possible audio bugs. But I always wondered…if I could sense it, could others?
Leave it to Jeremy to save the day. “Man,” he said. “Your laugh reminds me of my dad’s. He was a twenty-four-year Marine veteran, a quiet man, but when he laughed, it sounded like a crazy loud bark. Used to scare us all to death. And the bark sound was always followed by these littleyips. Scariest man I knew, but his laugh…whew.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, smiling at the memory. “Gosh, I miss him. He taught me to make biscuits and gravy.”
Jeremy had grown up in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Southwest Virginia. His daddy was born and raised Appalachian and used to call me a Yank, even though Maryland never felt like true north to me.
Rebecca and Stanley seemed to relax again as Jeremy and I shared anecdotes.
“Well,” Stanley said, his voice seeming an octave lower than normal. “We better try this cake before it gets dark.”
I would be certain to hold back any moaning now, no matter how good the cake was.
“I feel so spoiled.” I ate cake while Rebecca massaged my feet and calves. Honestly, it felt beyond good. And the cake was just as amazing. “So good.” I nodded at Stanley, who nodded back. “I don’t condone your gambling, but…yeah.”
Everyone laughed, Stanley’s sounding much more masculine this time. As I savored the taste of sugar and cream, I watched Rebecca concentrating, running her fingertips down the side of my tibia just hard enough to press into the muscle and release the tension. Her movements were controlled and sensual, in the way humans got when they were in their element, showcasing their talent and just…lost in it. I suddenly felt so fucking sad for Rebecca. I worked hard to keep my hatred and rage tamped deep down inside of me, like a pile of phoenix ashes, but I felt it gaining a heartbeat right then as I thought about people having to pretend to be something they weren’t.
No.I quickly squashed the anger.
