CHAPTER EIGHT
"Something's wrong, isn't it, McKinnon?"
"Yes, Charly, something's wrong. I'm not sure I can talk about this without blowing up."
"I think you had better just tell me what it is. I'll make some coffee while you get your thoughts together."
Was he going to tell her she was fired? Or that he had sold the property and she had to get out of the house? Filling two cups, she carried them out to the living room.
"Is it something I've done, McKinnon? You're scowling like a bear with a thorn in his paw."
"God, no Charly. It really hasn't anything to do with you, except that you happen to be living in my house." He sat down and picked up his coffee, staring blankly out the window.
"Come on, T. G., tell me. I can't stand suspense. Just tell me what happened to upset you." She sank down beside him, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how to give it, because she didn't know yet what the problem was.
"Maybe that's the best way. I'll just tell you what happened and you can surmise the rest."
"Okay, shoot."
Briefly, he outlined the confrontation in the feed mill. "So you see, Charly, this whole situation is impossible."
Stunned, she stared at him. "Are you asking me to move out, McKinnon?"
"Good heavens, no. I wouldn't let anybody pressure me into a decision like that."
"Then are you asking me to quit my job?"
"I don't have the right to do that either. I wouldn't expect you to do it."
"Then what do you want from me?" Puzzled and confused, she continued to stare at him.
"I don't want anything from you, Charly, except your understanding. You see, with people thinking and saying things like that, we can't see each other socially. I wanted you to know why you weren't hearing from me. I just won't have you exposed to that kind of malicious gossip."
"For God's sake, McKinnon, the gossip can't hurt me, or you either, for that matter. Didn't you listen to anything I told you? The only people hurt by that kind of thing are the originators of the thoughts and words. Not us." She placed her cup carefully on the coffee table. "Never us."
"I understand that on one level, Charly, but on another I just see red and want to punch somebody out, and that is damaging to my soul, believe me. Especially if I wallop my co-director in a public place." He set his cup beside hers and rose to begin pacing again. "It's just no use, Charly. We had something really special growing between us, but I won't let them destroy it with their malicious gossip. So it has to be over before it even has a chance to begin."
"There's nothing I can say to change your mind?"
"Nothing. I've been thinking about it for hours and I can't see any other solution. I have to stay so far away from here and from you that no one can point a finger at either of us. It would give certain people a good opportunity to say you should never have been hired, if they could even hint that we were having an affair. And this is a very small community."
"I can't believe this is happening, McKinnon. I feel like I'm losing my best friend. Would you hold me for a minute?" She had risen and stood gazing at him, her feelings evident in her tear-filled eyes.
Crossing the space that separated them, he gathered her into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her and holding her close against him. He dropped his head and rested his cheek on her hair. They stood silently for long moments. Charly drew comfort from the warmth of his arms and body. It felt so right to be close to him. How could people make it into something ugly? She didn't want their friendship to end now. There was so much more she wanted to know about him, so many things yet to discover.
For just a moment, she considered the possibility of seducing him and making him need her so much he wouldn't be able to say no, but only for a moment. It would be easy enough. Just lift her head, touch her lips to his and repeat the fantasy they had shared previously. Her mind began playing it back as she stood soaking in the warmth and scent and feel of him. Suddenly she felt him shudder and knew instinctively he had picked up her thoughts. Trying to blank her mind, she moved to step back from the circle of his arms, but as she lifted her head from his chest, his lips moved over hers and settled firmly on them, as though coming home.
Now the fantasy became three-dimensional reality, with added bonuses. She could touch him as he was touching her, feel the thick softness of his hair as her fingers slipped into it, sense the acceleration of his pulse and feel the throb of his heartbeat next to hers. She could hear his breathing quicken as the kiss deepened and she sensed that he was rapidly reaching his limits of control.
Her own body was responding as it had in her fantasy, giving as much as she was taking, encouraging him to respond to her needs, by a little pressure here, a subtle movement there, all performed unconsciously and naturally. As his hands slipped from her face down to her rib cage, his fingers just under her breasts, she arched her body closer, his arousal alive and demanding against her. Her hands slid down over his shoulders to pull him even closer as the kiss they were sharing lifted them to heights only hinted at in their fantasies. But his hands had barely closed over her breasts to inflame them with his heat, when he pushed himself away from her, holding his hands up as though to ward her off.
"Stop me now, Charly, please!" His voice was anguished as he turned his back to her.
"I can't stop myself, McKinnon. I don't want to. So if you want to end this, you'd better leave now." Tears were falling, but she tried to keep them out of her voice.
"Charly..."
"Go, McKinnon. For God's sake, just go." She was standing with her arms clasped tightly around her middle, holding in her agony. She watched as he unclenched his fists and strode swiftly out of the house without a backward glance. She heard the engine revving and the tires tearing into the gravel as he spun out of the driveway. She felt a great emptiness invading her soul as the loneliness of the future stretched before her. No more deep voice calling her 'Little Witch'. No more discussions about metaphysics, but most of all, no more laughing and deepening comradeship with her friend.
It had been years since Charly had cried herself to sleep, so tonight she made up for lost time. She knew all the arguments about professional ethics, getting involved with superiors, and behaving in a manner that could cause people to talk. It was important that she maintain a good image in the community if she wished to retain the respect of the clients as well as the directors and staff. If only his wife had behaved in a different manner.
But knowing all the reasons why they couldn't be together didn't make the pain any less. For a while she mulled over the possibility of resigning and taking another job, but where? There wasn't another insurance company for miles, and even if McKinnon did want to see her again, she would be too far away. Maybe he could resign as a director. She was sure from what she had seen of his farm, he certainly didn't need the director's fees. But then, that wouldn't be a fair solution either.
She fell into an exhausted sleep, only to waken a couple of hours later, tears streaming from her eyes and a feeling of dread that she couldn't shake. She got up and wandered around for a while, made a cup of mint tea and drank it, then sat in the darkened living room and tortured herself with memories of the last scene with him. Her mind replayed it all, from his first words to her last. She relived all of the emotions and feelings again, but the sadness in her took away all the joy she had felt in his arms. Her soul was crying out for its mate with a depth of feeling she had never before experienced. It was a very long night.
Somehow, Charly managed to carry on with her job. She gave it all of her attention, writing meticulous reports, making very detailed inspections, updating photos that really didn't need it, and putting in much longer hours than was expected of her. When the staff began to comment on her apparent weight loss, and the long hours she was working, hinting that maybe she was working too hard, she made an effort to stay out of the office as much as possible so they wouldn't know what she
was doing.
She looked up old friends, but they lost interest in her when she was unable to give them her whole attention. Her most happy times were those spent alone with her flowerbeds, or walking out through the woods across the road. Then one morning she awakened feeling nauseated and headachy. She decided it was a bout of summer flu, so took some Vitamin C and carried on. As the day progressed, so did her feelings of discomfort. By late afternoon, she had severe cramps in her stomach and had to cut her last inspection short. She knew she was fevered by the time she got home and the pain had increased so much, she began to panic. It couldn't be just flu. It was too severe for that.
Picking up the phone, she called her parents, only remembering after the fifteenth ring that they had gone up north for a month of fishing. It was about a half-hour drive to the hospital and she knew she needed medical attention. Gathering up her purse and keys, she went back out to the car and drove to Belleville.