Brass Ring by Diane Chamberlain Read Free Book Online Page A

the foundation, this was Claire’s favorite— working with Jon to help a couple meet the challenges that had been dumped in their laps. She loved watching Jon counsel someone. He was so good at capturing the feelings of whoever sat in that wheelchair and making those feelings safe to talk about. Claire always emerged from these sessions enormously glad that he was her husband.
    She and Jon gradually led the Stanwicks into a discussion of experimentation, of discovering each other’s needs and desires, of separating the possible from the impossible.
    “I can have a reflex erection,” Paul said. “It’s not spectacular but—”
    “I think it’s spectacular,” Lynn interjected.
    Jon laughed. “Well, then you can experiment with intercourse, too.”
    “But he can’t ejaculate,” Lynn said. “It doesn’t seem like it would be fair to him.”
    “I’d like to try, though.” Paul looked at his wife. “You’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you? I’d like watching you enjoy it.”
    Claire was touched. This guy was a sweetheart.
    “I’m not saying it won’t be frustrating, Paul,” Jon said. “The truth is, a lot of your pleasure will come from Lynn’s.”
    Jon had once told Claire that when she was happy, he was happy, when she hurt, he hurt…and when she came, he came. She’d felt a flash of selfishness then, but he’d said those words with no sorrow or self-pity, and she’d tucked her guilt away.
    Jon could come, in a sense. Sometimes. It was unpredictable, both the occurrence and the sensations it produced. Unlike Paul Stanwick, Jon had suffered an incomplete injury to his spinal cord. At times, his numbness gave way to a prickling, burning feeling or to what he described as “minifireworks” that shot off when and where he least expected them. He’d once said that having some feeling was worse than none at all. But he’d never said it again, and she didn’t believe he’d meant it.
    Claire had something she wanted to say to Lynn Stanwick. She debated quickly whether to bring it up here or to wait until she had a session with the woman alone. This couple could handle it, she decided.
    “Lynn.” She leaned toward the younger woman. “Paul’s not going to have the ability to move the way he used to. You’ll probably have to take responsibility for your own orgasm if you want to have one during intercourse.”
    Lynn’s eyes widened. “You mean…masturbate?”
    Claire nodded, and Paul groaned again. “Sorry, kid.” He gave his wife a wry smile.
    “No problem,” Lynn said, but from the expression on her face, Claire knew it would take her a while to get used to the idea.
    After the Stanwicks had left her office, Claire walked over to Jon and bent low for a hug.
    “Good session, Mathias,” she said.
    He wrapped his hand around her thigh. “Made me kinda hungry for you, Harte.”
    “Tonight,” she promised.
    He let go of her leg as Jill ducked into the office to hand Claire a stack of pink message slips. Claire noticed the name on the top slip: Detective Patrick.
    Jon wheeled past her to the door. “Are you ready to come to my office to work on the retreat?” he asked.
    Claire stared at the pink slip in her hand. She could toss it out. Forget it. It had been nearly a week since that night in Harpers Ferry, and she had just proved to herself that she could get through an entire counseling session without a single thought of Margot. That was rare, though. More often that not, she found herself fighting the memory of that night on the bridge, along with the vertigo that accompanied it.
    “I’ll be there as soon as I return these calls,” she said.
    She closed her office door after Jon left, then walked to her desk and dialed the number for the Harpers Ferry police.
    “I thought you’d want to know this right away,” Detective Patrick said. His raspy voice was tinged with a boyish excitement. “It turns out that the other night was not Margot St. Pierre’s first experience on that