The Faceless One by Mark Onspaugh Read Free Book Online Page B

love anyone as much as she loved her husband, but then this child had come into their lives. She looked past the chattering child to her husband and fell in love with him all over again. It was pretty much a daily occurrence, she realized.
    They had a good afternoon, the three of them, devouring hamburgers and fries, then heading across the mall to the multiplex. The SpongeBob movie had made all of them laugh, especially Bobby, who sat between them and kept looking from Steven to Liz to make sure they got every nuance of the cartoon.
    Afterward, they had window-shopped a while, Steven and Liz holding hands while Bobby goggled at toys and sports equipment. His birthday was in two months, and they needed some ideas.
    On the way home, Bobby had fallen asleep in the car seat, and Liz and Steven had listened to songs from their college days, softly singing along and grinning when one of them would become entangled in misremembered lyrics.
    At home, Steven had disengaged Bobby from the car seat and carried him into the house. He stayed asleep as they dressed him for bed. They left him sleeping peacefully, beloved Bonomo by his side.
    Steven joined Liz on the couch, first having to scoop their cats, Luthor and Midge, off. Luthor, big and blue-gray, had yowled as if he were being strangled. Midge, black and white and spindly, had glared at him reproachfully and left the room altogether.
    “I’m sorry about this morning,” Steven said to Liz, who held a cup of green tea, her bare feet curled up under her.
    “Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?”
    He hesitated, staring ahead while she waited. Finally, he faced her, prefacing his remarks with a pained sigh. “I think I’m going to have to close the store.”
    “I was afraid of that,” she said softly.
    He looked at her, surprised.
    “When two of your favorite bookstores closed down, I knew that didn’t bode well for us.”
    He nodded. “I feel like a failure,” he said, his voice almost too low to hear.
    “Baby, it’s not you. It’s … it’s the way it is. No one with a small store can compete with the big guys.”
    He raised his hands as if they contained the problem within some compact sphere, then dropped them helplessly. When he spoke, he was near tears. “I feel like I’m letting you and Bobby down.”
    “No way. You have done everything possible to make that store a going concern. Twenty years ago, hell, even ten, it would have been just fine.”
    He looked at her. “I don’t want to lose it, Liz.”
    “Maybe there’s something we could do. Hold a benefit? Maybe get some local writers in for a signing?”
    He shrugged. She could tell he was exhausted from worrying. Once more, she thought of Daniel with all his wealth. He had offered to pay off their house, wanting to make it a late wedding present, but Steven had refused. His pride would never allow him to accept any kind of gift from his older brother. She wanted to tell him that that was selfish, in its way—taking a stand that did not take into account the satisfaction it would have given Daniel or the security it might give his family. She sighed. He was vulnerable and hurting. This was not the time for a lecture. At least the core of his anxiety had been exposed. They would find a solution together.
    She placed her teacup on the coffee table and stood. She took his hand and led him down the hall.
    * * *
    They made love in their bed, the only one they had ever owned together. Though they knew Bobby was not likely to awaken, they still tried to be quiet. Sometimes, a loud sigh or moan would escape one of them, then the other would shush them, and they’d giggle like children.
    There was an ease and familiarity that comes from many years together. Their romance was heightened both by their deep love and sense of play. He always marveled at how beautiful she was, at how she could excite him with the slightest touch or sly smile.
    They rode on that slow, sweet tide together, thrilled and pleased.