Chapter 23: Every Light On

On Sunday night I turned on every light in my half of the house.

I did the hall first, then the stairs, then the lamps in the front room and the kitchen.

Last came the little brass sconce by the bathroom door that hadn't worked since June.

It worked.

Will stood in the hallway with a bottle of wine he hadn't opened and watched me go around the rooms.

"Are we expecting company?" he said.

"We're expecting me to look at you."

"The first time was dark."

"The first time I was in a hurry."

"The second time you had your eyes shut."

"Don't be smart. Come upstairs."

He followed me up with the wine still in his hand.

He set it on the dresser, next to the jewelry dish with the sapphire in it.

I turned on the bedside lamp, and the overhead, and the lamp on the dresser.

The room went gold.

Every inch of it showed, the quilt and the water stain shaped like Ohio.

The shared wall stood quiet, with nobody on the other side to hear.

"Sit," I said.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

I stood between his knees and unbuttoned his flannel one button at a time, slowly, and pushed it off his shoulders.

He let me.

I put my palms flat on his chest and felt his heart under them, hard and fast.

"Look at me," I said.

"I am."

"Don't look at the ceiling. Don't close your eyes. I want you to see all of it."

"Claire."

"I want you to see that I know what I'm doing."

I took off my sweater.

I took off the rest, in the light, one piece at a time.

I stood naked between his knees with my mother's pearls in my ears and nothing else.

His breath came out of him in a rough line.

"God," he said. "Look at you."

"I'm looking at you looking."

He put his hands on my hips, and then on my waist, and then up over my ribs, slow.

He pressed his mouth to my stomach.

He kissed his way up to my breast and took the nipple in his mouth.