Black Harvest

CHAPTER SIX

Afternoon sun poured over a set of glossy pictures spread out on the L-shaped kitchen countertop in Nick's apartment. The pictures were of a new luxury condo for sale near Du Pont Circle and the Convention Center in downtown D.C. A glass of Cabernet stood close by Selena's hand. Nick poured a fresh Irish whiskey. It was his third. He had a good buzz going.

Selena pointed at a photo. "The building has a great workout center. There's a pool on the roof. The price is good, too."

Nick read the price, discreetly printed near the bottom of the page. Seven figures, financing available. Three bedrooms, three baths, "well appointed kitchen", pantry and an enormous living room. The condo had a view that almost reached to the Rockies.

If Selena decided to buy it, she could write a check. It reminded Nick of the unbridgeable money gap between them. It hadn't come up much until now. The beautiful polished floors and sweeping views in the pictures made him feel his middle class roots to the bone.

"A bargain. Must be the lousy economy."

If Selena caught the irony in his tone she didn't show it.

"Now that I'm in D.C. all the time I thought I should get something permanent. Those rooms at the Mayflower are nice, but it's always been a temporary thing."

"What about your place in San Francisco?"

"Oh, I'll keep that. I love it. I'll pull a few of the art pieces and lease it out. I know someone who can handle that for me. I'm not using it now, but I don't want to let it go."

Some of the art pieces she referred to were priceless. One was a Paul Klee original. Nick supposed it would look as good in Washington as in San Francisco. He liked Paul Klee. He glanced at the reproduction Klee hanging over his couch. That one had cost ninety-nine dollars, ninety-five cents. Plus shipping.

"I think it's nice. I like the pool on the roof thing."

Selena picked up her glass, sipped. She watched him over the rim. "We could live there together."

"What's wrong with the way it is now?"

"We spend a lot of time running back and forth to each other's places. Why not make it simple? This is a beautiful place. It's near everything, it's got good security and it has a private garage. I get two parking spots."

Nick studied the view from the window. "It is nice. You should buy it if it's what you want."

"You don't want to live there with me." It wasn't a question. He heard the disappointment in her voice.

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

He turned to her. "It will change things between us. And it would always be your place."

"It would be our place. We can make it our place."

With two cats in the yard, he thought. A ghost of Megan. But Megan was gone. Why was he fighting the idea?

"I've got my habits. You have yours. You really think we can live together without messing it up?"

"We're never going to find out if we don't try."

Nick stared out the window. His own view wasn't bad. "It's not the habits, or whatever."

She waited.

"Look at what we do. God damn it, Selena, I'm afraid you'll get killed. Like Megan. I can't do that again."

"I'm not Megan."

"No, you're not." He stopped and started again. "When that bomb was going to go off, I thought how I hadn't told you how I felt."

She didn't have to ask which bomb. She wanted to ask him what he meant. She kept quiet.

God damn it, why was it so hard to say? What was he afraid of? If he said the words, things would change. He clenched the glass. Pain stabbed him behind his left eye. The hell with it.

"I love you, Selena. I haven't said that to anyone since Megan."

She froze, the wine glass half way to her lips. The words were an electric wave through her body. She realized she'd thought he'd never say it. Now he had.

"It took a bomb to make you say that? You haven't told me because you think I'll get killed?"

"Yes."

Selena set her glass down on the counter. "That's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say. What if you get killed? How do you think I'd feel about that?" She took a breath. "If we love each other, we should live together."

"So you love me."

"Nick. You are so fucking dense, sometimes."

She reached up and kissed him, a long, deep kiss. "Do you get it, now? Yes, I love you."

After a minute she backed away, her thoughts running into each other. One step at a time.

"What about this place?" She gestured at the pictures spread out on the counter.

Nick glanced at the pictures. Too many thoughts. "It's expensive."

Her uncle had been a very wealthy man and he'd left a lot of it to her. Nick never asked her about it. She never talked about it. She did now.

"I can afford it. Some of the money my uncle had went south with the economy. Some of it is tied up in the courts. The Chinese are being difficult about his investments over there. The rest is invested here. Half the interest goes to charity and I live on the other half. It's enough."

"It doesn't feel right. I'd have to pay my share."

"Does that mean you want to do this? Move in together?"

Nick felt a headache coming on. Maybe he ought to find out if it would work or it wouldn't.

"I'm not sure. Let me think about it."

"You don't have to be so enthusiastic."

He set his glass down and put his arms around her waist. "I can be enthusiastic."

The kiss tasted like wine. A few minutes later they were in the bedroom. The clothes came off and they fell on the bed. He kissed her, held her to him, felt the warmth of her, the beat of her heart, her breasts under his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, over her body. She grasped his buttocks, squeezed.

"Nice," she whispered, her breath warm in his ear. He entered her.

They took a long time together. Somehow making love to her felt different. Maybe it had been the words.