Perri O’Shaughnessy - Breach Of Promise

“No plan.”

“All action, no talk,” said Mike, teasing gently. “The knife, Lindy. Give me the knife.”

“No.”

“Lindy, if you don’t give me the knife, you’re going to have to use it. You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

She didn’t know what to say to that. He stood there patiently, fearlessly, the breeze ruffling his robe, looking the same as he did in the ring years ago, not a care in the world in spite of the tough punk across the way wanting to rip his heart out. Deciding, she lifted the knife from her side and raised it so that the tip just brushed his stomach. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink. This was the Mike she knew. She turned it around so that he could take it by the hilt.

He dropped it into a low bush beside the path. She buried her head in the scratchy wool, and his hand came up to stroke her hair.

“I’m having a hard time, Mike,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Lindy,” Mike answered, like in the old days when they had just met. They went down to the beach, clear of the forest, while he half-supported her, and they crumpled to the sand together.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “So sorry. I think I was dreaming about you.”

“Won’t you-will you please-”

“It isn’t right-”

But her hand was pulling at the tie around his waist and the robe fell open.

“Please,” she said.

“Oh, Lindy.”

She put her arm around his neck and drew him onto her, and after lying there with her for what felt like a long time, his hands tugged at the zipper on her pants, then pulled them down to her shoes. He lay on top of her for a moment, his heavy weight lulling and comforting her.

Then he gave her his love, like he always had.

Afterward, when they were dressed again, sitting together and supporting each other, looking out at the lake, he said, “I’m ashamed. I should have known better.”

“Is there-any chance-”

“I’m marrying Rachel.” He spoke without malice, sounding almost as confounded by his own words as she felt.

“She’s so young.”

“It’s a fresh start. I looked around one day, and everything looked different. It was like another man was living my life, doing all the usual things, paying bills, making love, on the phone, and I was outside looking in through a window at him, mixed-up as hell. I couldn’t hear the words anymore. I didn’t like what I saw there, this old face and these wrinkled-up paws of mine.” He held his fists up. They both inspected them in the dark, until he dropped them again. “They were…” He thought, but couldn’t come up with the word he wanted.

“Beautiful, Mike.” She had told him that many times.

“You remember? Like bowling balls, smooth to the touch, cruising down the alleyways… fast.”

“Oh, I remember.”

“Now, see that?” He tried to flex. “I can barely bend the fingers. I got arthritis in them, I think. I’m just so tired…”

“Of what? Of me? The business?”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel the same as I used to about anything.”

“I just can’t believe it.”

“I still care for you.”

“You have such an odd way of showing it.”

“Don’t leave yet, Lindy. We may never get to talk like this again. It’ll always be the lawyers, the reporters…”

“The money,” Lindy said.

“I’ll take care of you like I always have.”

“Was it you taking care of me, Mike? Or me taking care of you?”

He shrugged.

“We worked so hard. Remember when we started up the first exercise studio in Lubbock? I called everybody in town to find somebody, anybody for you to instruct. I got that phone slammed down in my ear so many times I still don’t hear right.”

“We put everything we had into it.”

“Why didn’t you ever marry me, Mike? I proposed to you lots of times.”

“I don’t know.” He lifted a handful of sand and let the granules sift through his fingers. “Were you going to kill me with that knife?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, thank you. That you didn’t kill me.” They both laughed a little. “You’re such a wild thing, Lindy. Remember what you did to Gil before the divorce, when you two broke up? Sixty-two stitches. I know I haven’t forgotten.”

“Don’t remind me. But he really had it coming. That shitheel married me for the sole purpose of getting his hands on my savings. He plotted to rob and humiliate me. Anyway, who knew that vase would break all over the place like that?” Lindy said.

“I guess that’s your biggest fault, and maybe the cutest thing about you, too. You’re just reckless, and I never knew anyone else that could blow a gasket like you do.”

“I do have a temper, but I’m not mad now. I’ve been thinking about the first year we were in the black. Now that was a Christmas. You in your Santa Claus suit, making love to me on the dining room table. You can be so funny.”

“You think I’m happy about what I did to you? And what you’re doing to me? Ah, Lindy. Things took a turn.”

“So you’re getting married.” Lindy blew into her hands to warm them. “You stupid bastard. I doubt she cares about you. She sees the money. She’s following the dollar signs.”

“She says she loves me. Maybe there will be a baby.”

“I gave you the business. That was our baby.”

“It was my business. I started it. My fists and my hands made everything happen.”

“My brains and my words. Both of us made it happen, and you know it.” She wanted to go on objecting but something held her back, some unquenchable faith in the future that told her not to say anything unforgivable. “What a waste, us talking like this,” she said. “It’s not going to change anything. It doesn’t mean anything. Might as well listen to Sammy bark.”

“I don’t want to string you along. You and me… we’re finished. Let me take care of you. I’ll send you a check every month.”

“Thanks for the offer. But I don’t want your charity. I want you to remember the two of us, what it was all about. Love for each other. Respect. A generous spirit. What has happened to you? Have you forgotten everything?”

“Speaking about that, Lindy, I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Get your lawyer off my back and get that receiver out of my company. You know how we’ve always done business at Markov. Our deals are based on trust, and we need to be flexible to take advantage of our markets. A receiver will kill us.”

“Nina explained that to me. He’s just there to oversee-”

“He’ll oversee us right out of business!”

“You won’t let that happen, Mike.”

“Please don’t let it come to that, Lindy. Think about what I’m saying.” He looked back toward the house. “I’ve got to go in before she wakes up,” he said, lifting Lindy’s chin with two fingers, his mood shifting as quickly as day had begun to break. “Isn’t it unbelievable,” he said, “us coming to this.” He didn’t point to the knife, but she knew they both had it on their minds. “Isn’t it crazy?”

“Crazy,” Lindy agreed. They stood across from each other, a matched pair of champagne glasses, bookends, socks. Two that belonged together.

He brushed his hand along her cheek with all the old tenderness, and for that instant Lindy remembered what a great couple they made.

Then, in the gray light, Rachel appeared, running toward them in a satin robe, her long black hair flying behind her like the wings of a raven. “What’s going on?” she cried, pulling up beside Mike, panting.

“Nothing. Lindy and I had to talk.”

“At this hour?”

“No,” Lindy said. “He’s not telling the truth. He’s trying to protect you. But you have a right to know,” she said. “Mike and I just made love, right there in that spot where you’re standing. And it was fantastic, Rachel. Better than ever.”