Jade

Chapter 61

Well, he let me carry the plates and forks to the sink.  He carried the enchiladas to the island.  He got out a lid that snapped onto the baking dish and put them into the refrigerator.  He finished loading the dishwasher and I wiped down the kitchen table.  When I finished, I poured myself some more wine and sat down.  Maybe the wine will help me forget.

“Forget what?” he asked.  He pushed the start button on the dishwasher then came to the table and sat down.  “I threw myself at him and he decided to go take care of business instead,” my cheeks burning at the thought.  “What do you mean you threw yourself at him?” he asked.  “I was naked on the bed.  I asked him to stay,” I answered, “I’m so embarrassed.”  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he consoled me, “he did not want to go, he had to.”  “What's so important that he had to go?  He told me that we would have alone time with no interruptions,” I asked, “What happened to that?”

“Some of the others are upset about Theo being detained,” he told me, “That is something that he has to deal with.”  “Oh,” now I felt embarrassed about my jealousy.  “Do not be upset with yourself Jade,” Ripley told me, “we would consider it a problem if you did not want to spend time with him.”  He took a drink of wine, then, “I hope that some day you will feel that way for me.”  I hate being put on the spot.  I didn't know what to say.  I wasn't going to lie.  I took a sip of wine so I didn't have to say anything.

“Are you feeling tired?” he asked, changing the subject.  “A little,” I answered.  “We could go enjoy the fire in the living room,” he suggested, “After we have a smoke of course.”  “That sounds good,” I agreed.  We went to the back door.  I waited while he put on his coat and boots.  We went out to find that it was blizzard like conditions .  “Did you know that it was supposed to snow?” I asked him.  “Yes,” he answered, handing me a lit cigarette.  The wind was really blowing, but somehow he is still able to light cigarettes.  “Are we supposed to get a lot of snow?”  “Six to twelve inches,” he answered.  “Aris won't come back in a blizzard in the dark will he?” I asked.  “No,” Ripley answered, “would you want him to?”  “No,” I answered, “I guess I will be spending the night with you.”  “Is that such a bad thing?” he asked me.  “No, it's not a bad thing at all,” I answered.

We quickly finished our cigarettes and went back in.  I waited for Ripley to take off his coat and boots.  He put on some slippers and I followed him to the kitchen.  We got the wine and went to the living room.  I sat down on the sofa while he started a fire.  I relaxed and leaned my head back to where I was looking up at the ceiling.  Before long, he had the fire roaring.  He waited for it to die down, then got a blanket out of the closet and joined me on the sofa.  He put his arm around me and I leaned into him.  He covered us up with the blanket.   I closed my eyes and breathed in his familiar scent of peaches.  “Peaches, huh?” he asked.  “Yes,” I answered, “what do I smell like to you?”  “I am not exactly sure, but I crave it,” he answered, “I think honey and vanilla.”  “We should have tea with honey and vanilla later,” I suggested.  “We might just do that,” he agreed.

“Can you explain apple pie and chocolate to me?” he asked.  “I don't know,” I answered, “just this feeling I get when Aris touches me.  Tingles that remind me of the feelings I get when I eat warm apple pie or chocolate.  But I kind of think chocolate belongs to you now, after that kiss.”  He remained silent.  “Do you get an odd feeling when I touch you?” I turned to look at him.  “I do not know.  Touch me,” he smiled.  I put my hand on his face and gave him a peck on the lips.  “That was too quick.  You will have to do it again for longer,” he told me.  I smiled.  I swiped his lips with my tongue this time.  He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me.  We kissed for a minute, then broke contact.  I leaned back from him, “Did you feel anything?”  “Oh, I felt something,” he answered.  “What did you feel?” I asked, curious.  “A lot of different things,” he answered, “But I think what you are looking for is I do not feel tingles, but I feel a calming presence, like a healing touch.  That is why I always want you to rub my back.  What do you feel when I touch you?”  “I don't know,” I answered, smiling, “You are going to have to touch me.”  I pulled up the sleeve of my sweatshirt, “touch me on my arm so that I can concentrate.”  He wrapped his fingers around my arm.  “It feels like tingles, like fire,” I answered.  He moved in to kiss me again.  This time I felt the fire on my lips and all through my body.  We broke from the kiss.  “How do you do that?” I asked, catching my breath.  “Do what?” he asked.  “I felt it all over,” I answered.  “I did not do anything.  I promise,” he told me.  “Will it change with your mood?” I asked.  “I do not know,” he answered.  I pondered on it in silence for a few minutes.

“Will you make me an apple pie?” I smiled sweetly.  “Tonight?” he smiled.  “Please,” I begged.  “Okay.  If you promise not to help unless asked,” he answered, “You just sit and talk to me while I work.”  I held up my hands, “These hands will remain idle the whole time.”  I tried to hop up off of his lap.  He stopped me, “I need more of that calming presence first.”  I leaned in for a kiss again.  This time with less need and more relaxed.  We broke from the kiss, less out of breath than usual.  “That was nice,” I whispered.  “It was,” he whispered back.

This time he let me get up.  He followed, holding my hand.  I led him to the kitchen.  I pulled a barstool out from the island and sat down.  He got out a large bowl from one of the cabinets and set it on the island.  He got a bag of apples from the cupboard and a knife from a drawer.  He set to work peeling and coring apples.  I ate some of the crispy, tart, apple peels.  When he finished, he rinsed them in the sink, then came back to the island and started slicing them into smaller pieces.  When he was done, he added some sugar and spices, stirred it around and put the bowl in the refrigerator.

“You are supposed to be talking,” he said, putting ingredients for dough on the island.  “What do you want to talk about?” I asked.  “When did you fall in love with Yaris?” he asked.  “I am not sure,” I answered.  “When did you come to the realization?” he asked, kneading the dough.  “That night when he said that he wanted Emma,” I answered.  “You just knew, then?” he asked.  “Yes,” I answered.  He got a rolling pin out and started rolling out the dough.  “So, will you just know with me?” he asked.  “I guess so.  I don't know,” I answered, uncomfortable with the question.  “So, I will do something noble, or something grand?  And you will think, wow I love that man,” he said.  “Something like that,” I told him, “or maybe not.”  He got out a nine by thirteen inch baking pan and sprayed it real good with pan spray.  “What do you mean?” he asked.  “Maybe baking me a large apple pie late at night is enough,” I told him, “Maybe it doesn't have to be a grand or noble gesture.”  He looked up at me and smiled, “I can work with that.”  I smiled back.

He placed the dough in the pan.  “Can you get me the apples from the refrigerator?” he asked.  “You bet!” I hopped up off of my seat and retrieved the apples.  I brought them to him.  He poured them into the pan and spread them out evenly.  He put the remaining dough all together in a blob, kneaded it together, then rolled it out with the rolling pin.  He went and set the oven to preheat.  He came back to the island and started cutting the dough into strips and placing them diagonally on the apples.  Then diagonally in the other direction.  “Can you get me the butter?” he asked.  I got the butter out.  He put four pats of butter on it evenly spaced.  The preheat timer sounded and he stuck it in the oven.  “It looks wonderful.  I can't wait,” I commented.  “You will have to wait a while,” he told me, “We will check it in an hour.”

“We could smoke before we start clean up,” I suggested.  “Sounds good,” he agreed.  We went to the back door.  I waited while he put on his coat and boots.  We went out on the porch.  The snow hadn't let up yet.  “We might just get a foot of snow,” he told me.  He handed me a lit cigarette, then lit his own.  “I've never seen so much snow in my life,” I told him.  “I know,” he agreed.  “So, you are wanting to go to Texas to pick out a puppy?” I asked.  “Yes,” he answered, “I am looking forward to warmer weather.”  “How long would we be gone?” I asked.  “A week or two, it just depends on how long Yaris will let you go for,” he answered, “I think that we are going to drive it.”  “So, Aris won't be going with us?”  “No. It will just be me and you.”  I wasn't sure what to think of that.  I was surprised that Aris would let me go without him.  “There are a lot of things about Yaris that will surprise you,” he told me, “The same with me.”  “What would surprise me about you?” I asked, “just tell me one thing.”  “I am a lawyer,” he told me.  I think my mouth dropped open.  “I handle all of that stuff for Yaris, except overseas.  We hire locals for that,” he explained.  “You're serious?” I asked.  “Very,” he answered.  “Okay,” I didn't know what to say.  “So, if you get arrested, you owe me,” he joked.  I smiled, “that's amazing.”  We were down to the end of our cigarettes.  We put them out and went in.

I waited for him to take his coat and boots off then followed him to the kitchen.  I sat on my barstool again and watched him clean.  “Would you like for me to help?” I offered.  “No, I have got it,” he answered.  It really didn't take him very long, maybe fifteen minutes.  He checked the timer on the pie.  “Thirty minutes until we check it,” he told me.  “We could go watch the fire some more,” I suggested.  “Okay,” he agreed.  We went to the living room.  He left the kitchen door open so we could hear the timer.  He sat down with me on the sofa.  He covered us up with the blanket.  “Are you cold?” I asked him.  “A little,” he answered.  I snuggled closer.  He put me on his lap and wrapped his arms around me, “You are a heater.”  I leaned my head against his chest.  “Do we need to take a hot bath?” I asked.  “We will when the pie is done,” he answered.
I started to feel a little groggy.  “I didn't fall asleep after I ate,” I told him.  “I noticed,” he agreed.  “I’m getting tired now though,” I continued.  “I know,” he told me, “It is okay if you fall asleep.”  “Are you making me tired?” I asked him.  “No, I am just helping you relax,” he answered.

We sat like that until the oven timer sounded.  He slid out from under me and laid me down on the sofa.  He came back a couple of minutes later.  “It needs to cook a little longer,” he sat down at the other end of the sofa and put my feet in his lap.  “I might have to wait until tomorrow to eat some,” I told him.  “That is fine,” he told me, “it will have to cool some before you can eat it anyway.”  We waited in silence until the timer sounded again.  He got up and came back a couple of minutes later, “It is done.”  “It smells good,” I complemented him.  “Thank you,” he told me, “I am leaving it out to cool all night.  Are you ready to go to bed?”  “Yes,” I answered sitting up.  “I will carry you,” he told me.  He picked me up and carried me to his room.  He laid me down on the bed and covered me up, “I am going to take a quick shower, then I will be back.”  “Okay,” I changed into a tank top and shorts and fell asleep.