Town Hall

Town Hall Chapters Nine and Ten

Chapter Nine

I wanted him to come home with me. I didn't want anything besides him in my bed sleeping with me, both simple and miraculous. And because I wanted it so badly I didn't ask. He walked me to the end of my drive after dinner, before the sun had even set, waving and walking back to his. Just barely I restrained myself from running by the house an hour later to see if he was smoking or not. He usually waited until far past sundown. I think it was his just-before-bed habit. His last deep breath before sleep.

I tried to just be happy with what was happening. How dare I be anything less than satisfied, when just a week ago I was saying "Oh, if he'd only touch me" to myself in the dark? But now the new problems were arising. Was it just going to be this? Back and forth to each other's home, our first floors? Lunch at work? How long was he going to roll out this sexual game? And how long until someone noticed something or decided they saw something? I thought both of us were pretty good at being discreet and I honestly didn't think anyone could open their eyes wide enough to see past their own noses around here. However, it didn't change the fact that gossip did indeed exist. I could imagine that the more discerning folks, evidence or not, could cook something up. I didn't know what to do about that. It was sure to be cutting, one way or another. The age difference. Meeting each other at work. The fact that so many people had had me walking down the aisle with Mikey less than six years ago. Mrs. Rathbone still gave me sad eyes at the grocery or pharmacy when we ran into each other. I sighed, pulling in the glass jug I'd left out on the porch for sun tea. I'd meant to bring some in to work for him, tomorrow. Hands and arms remained feeling empty.

****

I was startled to hear heavy footsteps on the stairs up to the offices at town hall. I was feeling relaxed and warm, walking into work with him, just starting to buckle down. Andy stood in the doorway. Not the biggest surprise. He had his own office in the basement here. What was the police station had been the old schoolhouse, and he didn't really have an office there, so much as a desk. Besides, he had the habit of "dropping by" to "debrief" and "exchange notes". There was rarely if ever a need, nothing to debrief, no activity on which notes needed to be taken. He started the conversation about a kid who'd brought a knife to school, more gossip than anything else. Coming further into my office, but still a few feet from my desk he glanced rapidly across my face in a way he hadn't in some time.

"You look nice today."

I rolled my eyes. Some men seemed utterly confused when you'd change some small part of your do-up, unable to understand lipstick or perfume, or whatever it was you'd done. I couldn't imagine what it could be though, the same thing I did nearly every day, the same scent. I wondered what he wanted. I sighed.

"What's on your mind, Sheriff?"

"I'm being serious, Dee, you look nice. I like that dress."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned.

"And your lipstick. Wonder if you knew I was coming today."

I heard Elijah's chair sliding out from behind his desk across the hallway. I cocked an ear, paying attention. I didn't hear anything else though. He was just suddenly and silently in the hallway.

"Well, hey, sheriff... glad to see you out and about, safe and sound." Elijah stood outside my office, in the middle of the hallway, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, smiling easily. Andy glanced between the two of us. Elijah shook his head, clicking his tongue.

"Too bad about that Stone boy down-to the high school. Reckon we can have a little talk, maybe, with the rest of the kids. See what's what. See how they're feeling. You and me can maybe get that down, sometime?"