Black Harvest

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

"What do you think?"

"Wow. This is great."

Selena stood with Nick in the living room of her new condo. Her condo, not theirs. Not yet. She'd had some things shipped from San Francisco. The rest was new. New paintings on the walls, new furniture.

She'd chosen antique rugs with geometric patterns of red and blue and cream. Stylized animals and trees and birds. The kitchen gleamed. A rack of shining pans hung ready over the center island and stove. She'd gone light brown leather for the chairs and couches. A few antiques, flowers. It was comfortable, inviting, a place you could live in and put your feet up. Selena was neat. She wasn't trying for House Beautiful.

"Wait till you see the bedroom."

"Why don't you show me?"

The bedroom was beautiful. A king-size bed with an elaborate headboard, soft pillows, smooth sheets. The Klee hung on the wall over the bed. They undressed. He held her against him. She reached down and took him in her hand. He felt life beating in her chest. Her body was warm. He molded against her, kissed her.

She pushed him down on the bed. She smiled and bent down to kiss him. He ran his hand down the taut curve of her back, over her buttocks. She lowered herself onto him. They made love slowly, taking their time. Afterwards they lay holding each other. She felt his heart pounding, unspoken tension in his body.

"Nice bedroom," he said.

"It's better with you in it."

"Selena…"

She got up and put on a green silk robe.

"I think I know what you're going to say."

She walked out of the room, came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She got back in bed. They sat with their backs against the headboard.

"So what am I going to say?"

"You're not ready to live together, are you?"

Nick took a glass from her. "No, I guess not. I've thought about it. A lot. At least when people weren't shooting at us."

"Bad joke."

"Yeah." He drank some wine. "I don't think it's a good idea, that's all."

"Neither do I."

"You don't?" She'd surprised him.

"You still aren't over Megan."

"Megan's gone."

"Not in your head, she isn't."

"I don't compare the two of you, if that's what you mean. I don't do that."

"I know. But she's still in there. I can feel it."

"It's just different with you. I love you, but it's different."

"It should be. It has to be. But you have to choose."

As she said the words she wished she hadn't.

"Choose? Between you and Megan? Selena, Megan's dead."

"Yes. She is. So maybe you need to get over it."

"You don't know a damn thing about Megan."

"I know enough to know she's a ghost between us. I know it would be a mistake to pretend she's not there. I know I love you but I need more back. Until you can do that, I don't see what point there'd be in moving in together."

Selena felt herself getting angry. Damn it, this isn't how I wanted it to go.

Nick set the wine on the end table and got up. He began putting on his clothes. He put on his shirt, strapped the shoulder rig on. Put on his jacket.

"I'm sorry. I'm working on it."

"Let me know when you've figured it out." Her tone was bitter. She heard the door close behind him.

Damn it! Damn it to hell!

She refused to cry.