I let her undress me, not helping. When we were both naked, she pulled me down onto the bunk and twined herself around me, her hand moving expertly between my legs. Into my ear she breathed, "I've missed you, oh God, I've missed you so much, I've missed being with you like this."
Hot, moist, whispered lies.
Her caresses grew more insistent. Always before, the touch of her hands and the sweetness of her mouth and the feel of her bare flesh had fired my blood. No more. I felt nothing for her. Numb below the waist. Dead soldier down there. None of the manipulations of fingers, mouth, tongue produced so much as a twitch.
I'd found out what I wanted to know about myself.
After a while she sighed and gave up. Lay with her head on my belly, still stroking me but in a different way now. Absently, as if she were offering distracted comfort to a sick pet.
"Poor Richard," she said. "Did I do this to you?"
I said, "You broke my heart and my pecker both."
She laughed.
She thought I was making a joke. She thought it was funny.
Funny!
I found out something else then.
I found out just how much I hated her.
A short time later, before she went away, she said, "You can reach me at JoEllen's. I left her address and phone number in the bathroom."
"Head," I said.
"Or I'll come see you again, if that's all right. Tomorrow or the next day, after you've had time to think it over."
I didn't say anything.
"If you let me come back, you'll never regret it. I promise I'll fix what I did to your pecker, too. It'll be just like it was before."
I didn't say anything.
"Think hard, Richard. One more chance."
She sounded so sincere. She was sincere, because she was fighting for her free ride. But the sincerity wouldn't last. She didn't love me, she didn't give a damn about me. The only thing she was sorry for was that her life hadn't worked out the way she wanted it to, the only thing she was ashamed of was that she'd had to come begging to me, the only person she cared about was herself.
If I took her back I knew exactly what would happen. For a while she would make an effort to live up to her promises. She'd be attentive, loving, deferential. She wouldn't argue or complain or make demands of any kind. She would curtail her drinking and her pill-popping. She would pretend to like living on a thirty-four-foot yawl, go out on cruises with me and pretend to enjoy herself. But in six months or so, boredom and restlessness would set in and she would regress—gradually at first, then not so gradually—into all her old habits and excesses. The bitch would take over. And the bitch was always hungry.
Oh, I knew her so well.
I knew myself so well, too. Knew that if I turned her away, gave her cause to hate me as much as I hated her, to run away again or, worse, to take up with another Fred Cotler, I would never feel safe again. I'd never be safe again. So I didn't have to think about her proposal. I knew all along what my answer would be.
I was going to give Annalise her one last chance. Not for her sake, but for mine.
I kept her squirming on the hook for nearly a week. Didn't call her or go to see her at JoEllen's; forced her to keep coming to me. The next two times she showed up, I put her off. The third time she was tearful and pathetic, ready to get down on her knees—to blow me right there in public, if that was what it took. JoEllen wasn't going to let her freeload much longer, she was almost out of money, the only jobs she could get on the island were shitty ones—clerking and waitressing—and they didn't pay much, so how was she going to live? I pretended to take pity on her. AU right, I said, she could move in with me on Windrunner on a trial basis. She threw her arms around me, kissed me. Cried a little, too—the second and last time I'd seen her cry. They might even have been real tears.
During that week I saw Bone and told him Annalise was back on the island and most of what she'd said to me. I could see the disapproval in his eyes when I said I was going to let her move in with me. He wasn't a man to butt into another's personal business, but he couldn't quite contain himself in this case. He disliked Annalise not only because of what she'd done to me, but because of her treatment of him in their few brief encounters. I think he knew she was prejudiced before I even suspected it. Blacks are much more sensitive in that regard than whites, with good cause.
"What you want to do that for, Richard?" he asked. "Take her back?"
"Everybody deserves a second chance."
"No, mon. Not everybody."
"You wouldn't give your second wife another chance if she showed up?"
He barked a humorless laugh. "Kick her ass straight into the harbor, she ever come round me again."
"Maybe she hurt you worse than Annalise hurt me," I said.
"Maybe so. But a woman treats a mon bad once, her gonna do it again."
"I have to take the risk, Bone. She's in a bad way. She knows what a mess she made of things and she's sorry and she wants to make amends."
"That what she say now."
"She seems to mean it."
"You still love her?"
"No. Not anymore, not ever again."
"Sex, mon? Plenty of women around for that."
"It's not sex, either. Call it pity. There's all the history between us, too, the good years we had. You know what I mean."
"Only history that matters is what you learn from it," Bone said.
"Meaning don't make the same mistake twice."
"You're my friend, Cap'n. I don't like to see you hurt again."
"I won't be," I said. "I'm going into this with my eyes wide open. If she pulls any of the same shit as before, she's gone for good. I told her that and she knows I'm dead serious."
He shrugged and picked up the length of 5/8-inch nylon line he'd been splicing. "Your business, mon. But from now on, don't make it Bone's."
His meaning was plain. I was welcome to stop by any time, but I'd better not bring Annalise. As long as she was living on Windrunner, he wouldn't come calling. If I wanted to go sailing with him, it would be just the two of us, and preferably on Conch Out. All of which was fine with me. I had no intention of inflicting Annalise on Bone, or on anyone other than myself.
She came on board with one suitcase and a small cosmetic case. The sum total of her worldly possessions, she said. She made herself right at home, commingling her stuff with mine as if there hadn't been a two-day, much less a two-year, gap in our relationship. Took over the shopping and the cooking, did any other chores I asked her to. Even made an effort to learn nautical terms and how Windrunner functioned. When I said I was taking the yawl out on an overnight cruise and asked her to go along, she agreed without argument. And as I'd expected, she pretended to enjoy herself—easy enough for her, since the trades were gentle and the seas calm both days.
For the first three weeks, she spent as much time with me as I would allow. Then one day she said she'd like to go to Magens Bay to work on her tan and would I mind if she took the Mini. I told her to go ahead, I didn't expect her to be my shadow. After that, she went to the beach whenever I didn't need the car. But she was always back by early evening, in time for supper, and she was always sober. The only serious drinking she did was with me in the evenings, matching me glass for glass but not exceeding my limit. During the day she kept herself lightly sedated with Valium; I saw her popping tablets a couple of times when she thought I wasn't looking. She had a fairly large supply in her cosmetic case. I knew that because I checked one day when she was out. Either she'd brought the drug with her from New York, or she'd found an island source through JoEllen Hall.