whole world starved to death... But it was a terrible thought.
“No. No one will starve tomorrow because of us... he kissed her till her toes curled, “...and you’re welcome to come in...” a scattering of sweet sipping kisses down her neck, “...you can even stay the night, but...”
“But?” He pulled back to look at her.
Her sigh was long and hard and disappointed.
“I won’t be here.”
“Why not? Where are you going?”
“It’s my turn to work the turnaround. I have to go back to work tonight.”
“But you worked all day.”
“We’re short staffed. Weekends especially. We take turns on the night shift, and on weekends we do turnarounds. Eight on, eight off, turn around and do it over again.”
“When the hell are you supposed to sleep?”
“Oh.” She grinned. “Were you planning to actually sleep here tonight?”
“I’m serious. Doesn’t that place ever close?”
She didn’t like the tone of his voice, but she understood it.
“People don’t stop having problems between five P.M. and nine the next morning. In fact, it’s the dark hours that are most frightening for them.” She put her hand deep into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew the key to her apartment. She turned to the door, saying, “Darkness can be very heavy. Overwhelming sometimes. Despair sets in fast without the light of hope. Nothing happens at night. While the rest of the world sleeps, the hopeless are awake, thinking and worrying and deciding they’re better off dead.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, not immune to the plight of the poor, but more concerned for Holly’s well-being. He followed her inside. “But isn’t there some other way to arrange the schedule? You need to sleep. When are you...”
She laughed at his guilty expression when he realized she would have been sleeping if she hadn’t been out with him. She reached up on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Today with you and the rain was better than twenty-four hours of sleep. I had a wonderful time.” She held her arms out at her sides. “I feel happy and full of energy and ready to take on the world.”
Damned if she didn’t look it, too, he thought.
“When do you have to go back?” he asked, slipping his arms around her waist, a move that came as naturally as blinking.
“Eleven.”
He wanted to drive her to work, to spend every second he could with her, but he knew she’d need her car to get back in the morning.
“Will you call me when you get home tomorrow?”
“Are you up at eight?” She grinned.
“I will be tomorrow.” He kissed the smirk off her face and waited till he felt her knees buckle before he lifted his face from hers. “Clavin’ll wake me up.”
“Who’s Clavin? The butler?” She was being facetious, but when he smirked at her... “You really have one, don’t you? And maids, too, I bet.” She shook her head. “I keep forgetting.”
“I know. And I like it. But you really should develop some respect for money, you know. It can buy more than bread.”
“It can’t buy anything important.”
“True. But it can make life a little easier so you can enjoy the important things.”
That was true, too, though she wished it weren’t. There was such a vast and vexing void between what was and what ought to be that she simply couldn’t reconcile herself to it. Life should be easy for everyone. Not opulently easy, necessarily, but basically easy. If one was blessed with a child, none of that joy should be tarnished with concerns for keeping it warm and fed and safe. If one was lucky enough to fall in love, none of the thrill should be discolored with fears of keeping each other healthy, sheltered, and out of harm’s way. It simply wasn’t right.
“You’d better go. Clavin’ll be worried about you,” she said, pressing her cheek to his chest and holding on tight as she banished the evil thoughts she had for his money. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, any more than it was her fault that she knew so many
“No. No one will starve tomorrow because of us... he kissed her till her toes curled, “...and you’re welcome to come in...” a scattering of sweet sipping kisses down her neck, “...you can even stay the night, but...”
“But?” He pulled back to look at her.
Her sigh was long and hard and disappointed.
“I won’t be here.”
“Why not? Where are you going?”
“It’s my turn to work the turnaround. I have to go back to work tonight.”
“But you worked all day.”
“We’re short staffed. Weekends especially. We take turns on the night shift, and on weekends we do turnarounds. Eight on, eight off, turn around and do it over again.”
“When the hell are you supposed to sleep?”
“Oh.” She grinned. “Were you planning to actually sleep here tonight?”
“I’m serious. Doesn’t that place ever close?”
She didn’t like the tone of his voice, but she understood it.
“People don’t stop having problems between five P.M. and nine the next morning. In fact, it’s the dark hours that are most frightening for them.” She put her hand deep into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew the key to her apartment. She turned to the door, saying, “Darkness can be very heavy. Overwhelming sometimes. Despair sets in fast without the light of hope. Nothing happens at night. While the rest of the world sleeps, the hopeless are awake, thinking and worrying and deciding they’re better off dead.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, not immune to the plight of the poor, but more concerned for Holly’s well-being. He followed her inside. “But isn’t there some other way to arrange the schedule? You need to sleep. When are you...”
She laughed at his guilty expression when he realized she would have been sleeping if she hadn’t been out with him. She reached up on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Today with you and the rain was better than twenty-four hours of sleep. I had a wonderful time.” She held her arms out at her sides. “I feel happy and full of energy and ready to take on the world.”
Damned if she didn’t look it, too, he thought.
“When do you have to go back?” he asked, slipping his arms around her waist, a move that came as naturally as blinking.
“Eleven.”
He wanted to drive her to work, to spend every second he could with her, but he knew she’d need her car to get back in the morning.
“Will you call me when you get home tomorrow?”
“Are you up at eight?” She grinned.
“I will be tomorrow.” He kissed the smirk off her face and waited till he felt her knees buckle before he lifted his face from hers. “Clavin’ll wake me up.”
“Who’s Clavin? The butler?” She was being facetious, but when he smirked at her... “You really have one, don’t you? And maids, too, I bet.” She shook her head. “I keep forgetting.”
“I know. And I like it. But you really should develop some respect for money, you know. It can buy more than bread.”
“It can’t buy anything important.”
“True. But it can make life a little easier so you can enjoy the important things.”
That was true, too, though she wished it weren’t. There was such a vast and vexing void between what was and what ought to be that she simply couldn’t reconcile herself to it. Life should be easy for everyone. Not opulently easy, necessarily, but basically easy. If one was blessed with a child, none of that joy should be tarnished with concerns for keeping it warm and fed and safe. If one was lucky enough to fall in love, none of the thrill should be discolored with fears of keeping each other healthy, sheltered, and out of harm’s way. It simply wasn’t right.
“You’d better go. Clavin’ll be worried about you,” she said, pressing her cheek to his chest and holding on tight as she banished the evil thoughts she had for his money. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, any more than it was her fault that she knew so many
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