I hadn’t even thought of that.
She crosses the room, dragging a hand across the top of the small table as she passes. Then she drops into a chair and rests her head against its back.
“He tried to apologize to me,” I say.
“And did you accept it?”
“Of course not,” I say, offended.
She shrugs. “It would be easier for you if you did. If you don’t, you’ll probably get fired.”
“He hit you, Marlena!”
She closes her eyes.
“My God—has he always been like this?”
“Yes. Well, he’s never hit me before. But these mood swings? Yes. I never know what I’m going to wake up to.”
“Uncle Al said he’s a paranoid schizophrenic.”
She drops her head.
“How have you stood it?”
“I didn’t have much choice, did I? I married him before I realized. You’ve seen it. When he’s happy, he’s the most charming creature on earth. But when something sets him off . . .” She sighs, and then waits so long I wonder if she’s going to continue. When she does, her voice is tremulous. “The first time it happened we’d only been married three weeks, and it scared me to death. He beat one of the menagerie workers so badly he lost an eye. I saw him do it. I called my parents and asked if I could come home, but they wouldn’t even speak to me. It was bad enough that I’d married a Jew, but now I wanted a divorce as well? My father made Mother tell me that in his eyes I had died the day I eloped.”
I cross the room and kneel beside her. I raise my hand to stroke her hair, but after a few seconds place it on the arm of the chair instead.
“Three weeks later, another menagerie man lost his arm while helping August feed the cats. He died of blood loss before anyone could find out the details. Later in the season I found out that the only reason August had a string of liberty horses to give me was that the previous trainer—another woman—jumped from the moving train after joining August for an evening in his stateroom. There have been other incidents, too, although this is the first time he’s turned on me.” She slumps forward. A moment later her shoulders shake.
“Oh, hey,” I say, helplessly. “Hey now. Hey now. Marlena—look at me. Please.”
She sits up and wipes her face. She stares into my eyes. “Will you stay with me, Jacob?” she says.
“Marlena—”
“Shh.” She scootches to the edge of her seat and touches a finger to my lips. Then she slides to the ground. She kneels in front of me, just inches away, her finger trembling against my lips.
“Please,” she says. “I need you.” After the slightest pause, she traces my features—tentatively, softly, barely grazing my skin. I catch my breath and close my eyes.
“Marlena—”
“Don’t say anything,” she says softly. Her fingers flutter their way around my ear and down the back of my neck. I shudder. Every hair on my body is standing on end.
When her hands move to my shirt, I open my eyes. She undoes the buttons slowly, methodically. I watch her, knowing I should stop her. But I can’t. I am helpless.
When my shirt is open she pulls it free of my trousers and looks me in the eye. She leans forward and brushes her lips past mine—so softly it’s not even a kiss, merely contact. She pauses for just a second, keeping her lips so close I can feel her breath on my face. Then she leans in and kisses me, a gentle kiss, tentative but lingering. The next kiss is stronger still, the next one even more so, and before I know it I’m kissing back, clutching her face in both my hands as she runs her fingers over my chest and down my body. When she reaches for my trousers, I gasp. She pauses, tracing the outline of my erection.
She stops. I am reeling, teetering on my knees. Still staring into my eyes, she takes my hands and brings them to her lips. She presses a kiss into each palm and then places my hands on her breasts.
“Touch me, Jacob.”
I am doomed, finished.
Her breasts are small and round, like lemons. I cup them, running my thumbs over them and feeling her nipples contract under the cotton of her dress. I crush my bruised mouth to hers, running my hands over her rib cage, her waist, her hips, her thighs— When she undoes my trousers and takes me in her hand, I pull away.
“Please,” I gasp, my voice cracking. “Please. Let me be inside you.”