The Making Of A Gigolo 15 Agatha RobertsChapter 29
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The next day was a day of further education for Agatha. Breakfast finally settled her down after a night of tossing and turning that included a number of thoughts she was quite sure she wasn’t supposed to be having. They weren’t all about Bobby. She spent a lot of time reviewing her relationship with Harry, which she thought was stupid, since he was dead and gone. She also thought about her friends. She had to admit to herself that they were most likely her ex-friends, now. She thought about Matilda feeding her baby, and the obvious closeness that involved, between mother and child. A month ago she would have been scandalized if she’d seen a woman breastfeeding in front of others. But what she’d watched couldn’t possibly be put into the category of “wrong.” It was too beautiful.
She also thought of Bobby. He hadn’t meant what he’d said the way she’d first interpreted it. She knew that. What bothered her now, and what she couldn’t even begin to understand, was that for some reason she wished he had meant it that way.
The routine of breakfast banished her worries, though. She was surprised when other people arrived at the house to join in breakfast and that they were there to help Bobby finish the interior walls of two more rooms that would become part of the B&B. She knew who Prudence Harris was, of course, and her daughter as well. Her initial feelings upon seeing the woman with her illegitimate children were negative, but she pushed them away. Meanwhile, Prudence’s eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw Agatha. Instead of feeling smug, however, Agatha felt guilty.
“Agatha is boarding with us for a few days, while her new furnace is installed,” said Mirriam, as if it were just simple news.
“I see,” said Prudence, who obviously did not see. She looked away. “So where is the slave driver who ordered us to come labor for him?”
“Haven’t seen him this morning,” said Mirriam, serving up eggs with biscuits and gravy. “The twins are already gone.”
“We stayed up late, working on a puzzle.” Agatha blinked. She couldn’t believe she’d spoken.
“I’ll go get him,” said Constance, taking a step. She stopped. “Should I take a glass of cold water with me?” she asked, grinning.
“You have to work for him today,” said Mirriam. “Just remember that.”
“Hmmmm,” said Constance. “Maybe I should rethink that plan.” She smiled again and went out of the kitchen.
Prudence looked over at Agatha, curiosity plain in her eyes.
“So ... you’re getting a new furnace...”
“Get up, lazy bones!” yipped Constance, whipping the covers off of Bobby. She stopped, staring at his morning boner. She told herself she should have known he’d sleep naked. She’d forgotten what he looked like too. She backed up as he raised his head and squinted at her.
“It’s tomorrow you’re supposed to be here,” he groaned. “Not today.”
She ignored his nakedness. “No it’s not. You said today and we’re here, so get your lazy butt out of bed and teach me to finish drywall.
“Why do you hate me?” he moaned, rolling over and curling up into a ball.
She went to stand next to the bed.
“I don’t hate you, you oaf! I should, the way you torment me, but I don’t.”
She started pinching him all over his exposed skin.
He moved like lightning and she wasn’t prepared for it when she was pulled over, to lie half on top of him as he hugged her to him, trapping her arms next to her body. He started tickling her with the fingers on the hands that were wrapped like iron around her. She was helpless, but she struggled anyway, grinding her breasts against his chest. The only thing she could do was bite his nose. She clamped down harder than she meant to and he went still.
“Okay, okay,” he said, into her chin. “I give up.” His hands left her alone and his arms relaxed. She let go of his nose and lifted her face up, putting her hands on the bed next to his armpits. Their faces were inches apart as she stared into his eyes.
He lifted his head and planted a soft, quick kiss on her lips.
“I’ll get up,” he said, when he was done.
She climbed off of him, but stood there waiting, as he got up and got dressed.
Neither of them seemed to mind his nakedness.
The education continued for Agatha as she learned that not only was Mirriam willing to accept her, despite their past ... differences, Prudence and her daughter were too. Not that she had anything against Constance. She’d properly married, though Agatha couldn’t remember seeing her husband around for quite some time.
When Constance brought Bobby back to the kitchen, he seemed to ignore Agatha. Once again she was immersed in an atmosphere of easy jocularity as they all ate breakfast together.
Then Bobby and the Harris women went off to work on the rooms, leaving Mirriam and Agatha in the kitchen.
“Do you need any help?” asked Agatha. It was the decent thing to do.
“You’re a guest,” said Mirriam. “We don’t make our guests work.”
“Bobby never told me how much you charge,” said Agatha. “Not that it matters, I suppose. I didn’t want to go to a motel.”
“We’ll work something out,” said Mirriam. “You’re in a bind. It’s not like you’re on vacation, kicking up your heels.” She stopped. “Come to think of it, you can work for your board. I’ve got laundry to do and these dishes. You want to work so you don’t have to pay?”
“I couldn’t do that!” said Agatha.
“Oh,” said Mirriam, a little stiffly. She’d forgotten how snooty Agatha and her friends were. “Of course not.”
She might as well have told Agatha what she’d been thinking. It was plain on her face.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” said Agatha, defending herself. “You run a business here. I’m sure you depend on the money you make, and you’ve fed me too ... supper I mean. I couldn’t possibly do enough work to make up for all that.”
“Oh,” said Mirriam again. She felt her face get hot as shame claimed some of her blood supply. “Forgive me. I guess I’m just not used to dealing with...” She stopped and looked away, flushing harder.
“I’ll do the dishes,” said Agatha. “We can find something else later.”
Mirriam turned around, her face still dark.
“Done,” she said.
As it turned out, Agatha found plenty of things to do that morning. She was used to cleaning, so she simply thought about the things she did at home and did them here. She was cleaning the blinds in the living room when Mirriam came in.
“I’m so embarrassed,” said Mirriam. “Those haven’t been cleaned in ages.”
“It’s nothing,” said Agatha, enjoying actually being able to make a difference. “I’m surprised my blinds haven’t worn away as much as I clean them. I don’t really have anything else to do, since Harry passed.”
“I guess the children kept me busy when Joe was killed,” said Mirriam, automatically.
“Joe?” Agatha’s question was automatic too. She’d been too young to pay attention to a drifter named Joe, when he’d been around.
Mirriam thought long and hard before saying anything. It occurred to her that some of the people Agatha was friends with probably already suspected who some of Joe’s children were anyway. So what did it hurt?
“He was the father of my daughters,” she said.
Of course Mirriam’s daughters had been the topic of gossip many times, as well as the sons and daughters of a number of other residents of Granger. Agatha had listened avidly to much of that gossip and conjecture.
“All of them?” she asked, wondering if that was going too far.
“I was in love with him,” said Mirriam, biting the bullet. If the woman was a spy, she’d have only old news to confirm. It was too long ago. It didn’t matter anymore. “He couldn’t put down roots, but I loved him anyway.” She wrung her own rag out, thinking back on the man she was discussing. “Couldn’t resist him, really. He just made my heart do flip flops.”
Agatha wondered what that feeling might be like. The only flip flops her heart had done was on her wedding night. Harry had nailed them down in her stomach. The pain had, anyway. The passion in Mirriam’s voice as she remembered this man ... this man who wouldn’t marry her ... was still fresh and deep. It was obvious that Mirriam still remembered her love for him. Agatha wondered what that was like too.
“It wasn’t like that with Harry and me.” It was out of her mouth before she realized it.
“I’m so sorry,” said Mirriam. It was an automatic response. But it was also an opening ... the kind of opening many women welcome, when they want to talk about something.
“I don’t know what happened,” sighed Agatha.
“You were young,” said Mirriam.
“I just did what I thought I was supposed to do,” said Agatha.
“Is that why you never remarried?” Mirriam blushed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“I can’t remarry,” said Agatha automatically.
“Why in the world not?”
“My friends would never...” She didn’t finish. She blinked. She looked at Mirriam, who was looking at her with sad eyes. “I guess I just thought I couldn’t do that,” she finished.
“Well, the stable of men available in this town is mighty puny,” said Mirriam. “I can tell you that.”
That almost shocked Agatha. This woman had a four year old little boy!
“You wanted to get married again?” she asked.
“Oh, I thought about it,” said Mirriam. “I seem to be cursed to fall in love with men I can’t have.” That was the way she thought about it. No one knew who Theodore’s father was and she planned on keeping it that way. “I’ve made some pretty silly choices along the way, it seems.” She felt like she was trivializing her own family. “Not that I’m sorry, mind you,” she said, in their defense. “I love all my children. I loved them all the time. It was hard, sometimes, but I’ve always been proud of them.”
Again Agatha was stunned. She’d expected this woman to be ashamed of what she’d done all those years. And yet, she sounded almost proud. It occurred to Agatha then that she had cause to be proud. She’d done it alone, and her children, Agatha had to admit, were pleasant ... no, more than pleasant. They were nice people. That jarred her sensibilities, somehow, but she knew it was true. Bobby had been nice to her. The girls, in the short time she’d known them, had seemed completely normal other than the fact they had no husbands. She thought of Harry. She wouldn’t wish that on any woman, with child or not. She immediately felt ashamed that she’d thought that.
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