A Marriage of Convenience by Doreen Owens Malek

Author:Doreen Owens Malek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Gypsy Autumn Publications
Published: 2012-01-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

When Tay woke up in the morning he had a dull headache and his side felt like it was on fire. His memory of the night before was foggy, but he knew he hadn't been drinking. He'd taken a beating but was sure he gave better than he got. It was the dreams that bothered him.

They were not the nightmares that tormented him when he first got out of the army. He hadn't dreamed of the war in years; hard work and a purpose in life had managed to exorcise those demons. These dreams were about Sharon, and they remained with him in daylight, erotic wisps and snatches that tantalized with their very brevity. Images assaulted his consciousness as he rose and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He remembered soft thighs under his hand, yielding flesh that was as smooth as milk. At least the pictures seemed like a memory but he knew they couldn't be. He felt cheated and deprived.

He glanced at himself in the mirror over the sink and cringed; what woman would want to get into bed with this?

He had a terminal case of five o'clock shadow, his blue- black beard casting a sinister shade on his jaws and chin. His fleshy lower lip, always a target in a fight, was split and scabbed. He washed his face gingerly and tried to put on a shirt but his ribs protested. The damn things probably were broken, or at least cracked. They'd been broken before and had felt the same.

He left his room and went to the kitchen, where Rosa and Sharon were making breakfast. He took a cup of coffee from the pot and was attempting to beat a hasty retreat when Sharon said, "I made an appointment at the clinic in Glendora for you at ten. I'll drive you in to see the doctor."

Tay stared at her. "I'm not going to see any doctor."

"Yes, you are, and we're not going to argue about it. You were in so much pain last night that I had to slip you a mickey."

"A mickey?" he said, smiling slightly. She sounded as though she had stepped out of a Humphrey Bogart movie.

"I put pain pills in the drink I gave you." She poured cream into a pitcher and handed it to him.

He thought that over, adding a dollop of cream to his coffee and rubbing his side with his other hand. That explained the headache. Maybe the vivid dreams, too.

"I don't have time to go into town today," he said, trying again.

Both women looked at him.

"You're acting like an idiota, Tay," Rosa said sternly. "A broken rib can puncture a lung."

Tay glanced from one face to the other and knew he was outgunned.

"All right," he said reluctantly. "But I can only spare an hour."

"You'll spare whatever it takes," Rosa replied flatly. "Maybe you'll remember this little inconvenience before you get into your next fight."

"I think I've already had my last fight," he said, sitting down carefully at the kitchen table.

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