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There was nothing funny about it. Izzy sat in the back of the church and watched clusters of families pass her on the way to their row. As a kid she’d wished desperately that she could sit in the back with the widowed; she figured she wouldn’t have as many eyes on her that way. Now that she was sitting here she would give anything to trade places out of it.
Widowed wasn’t even the right term. Ed left and the town leaders decided the best they could give Izzy was the title of widow. They had never granted a divorce and they wouldn’t start now. People didn’t know how to approach Izzy anymore. Some of them apologized with faux wounded expressions as if Ed truly had died. Some of them merely glanced sideways at her and frowned, because they thought she hadn't earned her widow status.
She wanted to tell all of them to fuck off. She didn’t fit into their tidy little community boxes anymore, but it wasn’t on purpose. Izzy was no rebel, not at this age. She wanted a quiet life, but a respectable one. If they saw that as rebellion it was their own damn fault.
The church congregation was divided into three sections. The left and middle were for families. The back was reserved for the widowed and currently bereaved. New mothers sat in the very back behind the congregation so they could nap if they needed to or slip out to take the baby for air. The disabled and extremely elderly sat in the front row for more space. Izzy would eventually sit there, but she preferred the back.
The right section was for eligible singles. It was designed to help them mingle and separate from their families when they came of age. Izzy remembered the days of sidling up to Ed and whispering witticisms into her ear. It felt like eons ago now.
The speaker of the day began their lecture about God's love and light. Izzy watched the backs of those who no longer got to watch her. That was the widow’s only prize in the end: one time a week where she got to step outside of the terrarium.
“…in his holy light, we are…” the pastor continued on. In Izzy’s sightline a child leaned over and whispered to her friend, maybe sister. She slipped a piece of candy from her pocket with a secretive smile. The friend tucked it away with clumsy fingers against crinkling wrapping, but no one else seemed to notice. They were all too absorbed in the sermon.
Izzy ran her fingers over her dress, longing to feel the hem. If she had it her way she’d trim the dress crookedly to reveal her prosthetic. If she did that, though, they wouldn’t let her into the church. It was the same with pants, no “odd and unseemly” alterations allowed.
When the service finished one of the other widows, Mary, sidled up to her. He was older, and the only one who understood exactly what Izzy had been through. “Hi, Izzy,” he tipped his hat. “How are you?”
“I’m alright,” she said.
He folded his arms behind his back. “That was a decent service I thought. Although half the time I was trying to keep Louis from whining out loud.”
Izzy managed a small smile. Louis was a precocious young thing in a way that almost made Izzy want kids of her own. Almost.
“So, the singles section is pretty full up these days,” Mary said with a teasing smile. Alma careened past them towards the lawn in front of the church where the rest of the children were playing. “Alma, play nice,” Mary called. He lowered his voice. “She expresses a lot of her feelings through play. The looks I get.”
Izzy nodded. She worried everyone, too.
“Anyway, I was saying the singles section. Would you ever consider sitting over there? I know it hasn’t been that long,” Mary trailed off.
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Not you, too. I don’t need some brash young thing courting me.”
“I don’t think it’s so bad,” Mary said with a hint of a blush to his cheeks. Everyone knew Doug had been sniffing around Mary lately. Not that Izzy begrudged him happiness, not at all.
Mary’s face melted into something tender, but not pitying. The lack of pity was what made him so tolerable. “Besides, they don’t have to be young,” Mary said. “There’s plenty of available folks your age. It might be worth a shot. You fell in with Ed right away, maybe you missed someone who would also have been a good fit for you.” Louis appeared from one of the pews and clung to his father’s leg.
Izzy shrugged. She didn’t know if she could contemplate that right now. It was probably true, but the idea of courting again without any assurance it would work out? She wasn’t sure she could bear the vulnerability. “I’ll think about it. I’ll see you around, Mary. You as well, Louis.”
Mary stooped to curve his arm around Louis. “Bye, Izzy. Take care.”
Izzy walked slowly to the car. She was one of the few in the community that drove a car. Maintaining horses was almost unthinkable at this stage in her life, and so she had a tiny, ancient truck that proved useful. It had chipping black paint and no seatbelts, but Izzy hardly left community roads. It wasn’t registered, but she did have a license. Although, maybe it had expired by now. How long did those last?
Izzy hauled herself up into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. Children danced and ran circles on the grass around the church while their parents gossiped. The leaves were just starting to turn, caught halfway between green and yellow. The air, still and warm, pressed in from outside, just enough to have Izzy sweating at the collar and under her arms. Her only comfort was that it wouldn’t be long before the chill and the rain crept down the road to keep them company. Not long before snow gave her an excuse to miss church on Sundays.
Izzy rolled her shoulders back and turned the key in the ignition. The sound startled the horses nearest her, but they didn’t run off. Izzy pulled onto the road without a spare glance back, and turned right towards her home. She had potatoes and carrots at home. She could make roast tonight.
Izzy heard scratching and clucking at the front door. She hitched up her skirts and walked quickly through the house. Had one of the chickens escaped the coop? There was a stray cat she’d been trying to coax inside, and she hoped he hadn’t chewed a hole through the coop’s mesh.
When she opened the door, instead, she found a ruffley black chicken she didn’t recognize. She was a pretty thing, very regal. Izzy kneeled down in front of her. “What’s your name then, madame?”
Izzy carefully probed her feathers with gentle fingers. The little thing didn’t look sick or injured. Izzy lived pretty far out from everyone else, so she couldn’t think of who it belonged to. And yet, it was so mild mannered that it didn't seem wild. Izzy scooped the girl into her arms and walked her back to the coop. She made sure to pour some extra feed, but she’d refrain from naming her just yet. Just in case someone showed up looking for her.
Izzy returned to her loom. It used to be a hobby, but these days it made her some coin. She weaved rugs, blankets, shawls. When she wasn’t peddling those she was coaxing her chickens up from their roost and arranging their eggs in a cloth-lined basket.
Izzy was right in the swaying rhythm of the loom when she heard a knock at the door, unhurried. Izzy sighed, disentangled herself and went to see who'd come for their chicken. When she opened the door she flinched back in surprise. It was none other than Jacklynn Jane Rackham. “Hi. Izzy,” she said. She removed her hat and smiled sincerely. “How are you on this fine day?”
Izzy absentmindedly dusted her skirts off again. “I’m alright, Jack. Why are you here?” She hadn’t seen Jack in a long time. Months and months, if she was pressed to consider it. Between Ed and her leg…and before that Jack had been in the hospital, if memory served. Jack looked okay now. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, in a healthy way, and her eyes were clear and bright. She looked strong.
Jack cleared her throat and leaned in just slightly, with a curve to her back to make up for the height difference between them. “I’m lookin’ for one of my girls, Winona, prettiest black feathers you’ve ever seen.” Jack braced her hand against the doorframe and Izzy’s eyes can’t help but follow the motion. “Seen her around?”
“I have. I put her in my coop to keep her safe.” Izzy stepped into Jack’s space, within centimeters. “I’ll show you.” Jack removed her hand and Izzy let the door swing closed. “I’ll take you around back.”
Jack stepped aside and put her hat back on. “Thanks, Izzy. Without you she mighta been eaten by a coyote.”
“Could’ve been,” Izzy said. “Don’t let her out of your sight again.”
“I won’t.”
Izzy crouched down and unlatched the door. All the chickens came running for her attention, convinced of some delicious treat hidden in her skirts. Izzy managed to get a hold on Winona and she shooed the rest away. Izzy took one last moment to appreciate how silky and lovely Winona was before she deposited her into Jack’s arms.
Jack petted the back of Winona’s head but stayed focused on Izzy. “How can I repay you?” She eyed the back door wistfully, as if begging Izzy to invite her in. The cicadas swelled in Izzy’s ears. “Anything in mind?”
Izzy shook her head. “Can’t think of anything presently. I guess you owe me a favor.” Izzy meant to sound dry, but it came out serious.
Jack nodded jerkily. “Of course. Whatever you need. Nice to see you, Iz. Thanks again.” Jack waved goodbye and started to walk towards her buggy.
Izzy stayed still and watched her go. No one had called her Iz since she was young. Ed would sometimes, but even then it hadn’t been common. Izzy walked around the house to watch Jack climb back onto her cart. She nestled Winona between her thighs and slapped the reins. As the wheels lurched into motion, Izzy wondered how exactly Jack’s chicken had ended up so far from home.
On Sundays Izzy rose with the sun. As the days grew shorter, the rooster’s crow sounded off earlier than the light pierced Izzy’s eyes. This morning was almost a tie. She lit the stove fire before she bundled into her coat to go and feed the chickens.
She used to try and use her crutches to go out and feed the chickens, that way she could quickly finish the chore and then take the time to put her prosthetic on. But leveraging the large bag of feed had been its own headache, on top of her crutches slipping and sinking into the soft morning ground. So. Leg first.
When Izzy got back inside she combed her hair and twisted it into a bun. By then the water was boiling. She ground the coffee beans under mortar and pestle and poured the water over the beans to soak.
When she finished with her one cup of black coffee she dressed in her church clothes and left. There were times in her truck that her mind flashed with memories of her coming of age year. She thought of her and Eddie and Jack crammed into a car, radio blasting. They had sugary drinks and candy and cigarettes. Jack used to hang out of the window like a dog, trying to flash her tits at every long haul trucker. Ed would join in half the time, especially if the driver “looked gay” to her.
Those days felt like dreams more than memories. Somehow the joy was more untouchable than the pain.
When Izzy entered the church today she glided past any effort of small talk. She noticed the judgmental side glances and she knew she must feature in some of their small talk. It wasn't that she was the center of their conversations; she wasn’t that conceited. No, she was merely a fascinating tidbit on their bulleted list of latest stories.
The next person who walked in got an actual gasp out of the woman next to her, Evelyn. Izzy turned around to look and her own lips parted ever so slightly. It was Jack. Jack hadn’t attended a church service in over a year. From what Izzy understood it was part not wanting to and part being in the hospital.
“She’s looking delicious, isn’t she?” Evelyn said a little too loudly.
Izzy didn’t respond. Instead she watched Jack walk down the far aisle and take a seat in the singles section. Izzy forced herself to look forward towards the pulpit. She couldn’t be caught staring. Should she sit in the singles section? It would be nice to sit next to someone she knew. Not that she wanted to advertise her availability. It was just…friendliness.
When the service ended Izzy ducked her head and rushed out. She was in no mood. She wondered if Jack lingered. Wondered if Jack was chatting to the other singles and boasting about the house she built herself.
Izzy’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel at the thought. Jack shouldn’t boast to them. She probably shouldn’t flirt with them. They were in different stages of life. Would the young folk find Jack’s scars alarming or fascinating? Maybe for the homely boys and girls the scars would be akin to war wounds. They might see them as facets of a dangerous life and be drawn right in further by Jack’s charms.
Not that it mattered. Jack was free to court whoever she wanted to. Izzy ought to be better than the other gossips. It was none of her business and she repeated that in her mind.
Rain thundered on the roof in a soothing drum. Izzy couldn’t sleep even with the steady noise. She remembered a time when she used to reach under the bed to get Ed’s secret phone. She would fill in digital crosswords and play solitaire and match colorful shapes until her eyelids were heavy. Until she could stop thinking.
None of that now. Izzy wasn’t bothered enough to buy her own secret phone. There was no one to keep it secret from.
Izzy eased her body out of bed and reached for her crutches. She felt heavy and creaky tonight. She reached into the closet for her old, worn leather jacket. It was the only thing left from her coming of age decades ago.
Izzy filled the fireplace with wood and lit it for the comfort of it. It was only in the light’s cast that she noticed the damp spot on her couch. “Shit.” Izzy dragged the couch across the room and its legs moaned with every pull as they scraped against the floor. The raindrops freely plapped onto the bare floor now, and the sound was almost maddening.
Izzy quickly placed a cooking pot under it with a cloth inside to muffle the sound. She wouldn’t be able to patch the leak until the storm blew past. She leaned over onto the couch and sighed. Doing jobs around the house used to feel rewarding. Now they formed a seemingly endless list that never felt finished.
Izzy went to the kitchen and started a kettle boiling over the fire for coffee. She had a book she’d been saving for a rainy day like this. It was a sappy romance novel. She didn’t even like reading them in front of Ed. Although, who would’ve known that of the two of them it was Ed that would get the real sappy romance ending. Izzy didn’t begrudge her romance, when she dared to think of it at all. If she were to press on the bruise, just to feel it ache, she’d find a festering anger she hadn’t resolved. It wasn’t about romance or being left. If those things had happened peacefully maybe they’d be friends.
Before she forgot, Izzy made a note to stop in town for patching supplies. Her ladder should suffice, although it made her nervous to climb it alone. If she fell, she’d probably be able to crawl up the porch steps and get inside at least. It was amid a torrent of these thoughts that Izzy eventually drifted off lying on the rug in front of the fire with the book on her chest.
In the morning Izzy had to drag herself off the floor to go and feed the chickens. “My back,” she grunted. “Stupid fucking choice, Hands.” Her rooster, Spade, flapped and squawked a racket that made her want to strangle him, but he was useful and necessary. She hefted the bag of feed onto her arm and poured a nice amount out for them.
The air was crisp today and it settled something deep inside of Izzy. She changed out of her dress in favor of trousers and a work shirt. She tied her hair into a low bun and covered it with a black handkerchief, then she retrieved her ladder from the shed behind the coop. It was old and handmade, and just the right size to reach her roof. She gripped the lacquered wood tightly in her hands and started to climb.
The hole in the roof wasn’t as bad as she expected. It was slight, and nothing had yet nested into it.
“Well hello there,” a voice called.
Izzy looked down to see Jack on her buggy, riding by. She had a handsome brown jacket on, probably ready-made. Izzy winced and waved from where she straddled the roof. “I’m fixing a patch.”
“I see that.” Jack hopped down and approached the side of the house. “I can help with that.”
“I can do it myself just fine,” Izzy said. “Go on to whatever business you have.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t count as your favor,” Jack teased. “I can run home for my borrowed tools if you like,” she said. “I have time to help a lady in need,” she winked.
She’s here and she’s offering , Izzy thought, and she didn’t much want to do the work anyway. “Fine,” she relented.
“Before I go, do you need help getting down?” Jack asked. “I can hold the ladder.” She said it earnestly, but the Jack of the past would only offer to play a prank.
“Fine,” Izzy said again. She had been dreading the climb down, but she didn't want to say so. “If you shake this damned thing I’ll cut you in half, Jack.”. She scooted backwards and started to carefully descend. When she reached the grass, unscathed, she smiled a small appreciative look at Jack.
“Just wait here,” Jack said. “I’ll be quick as a ferret.”
Some thirty minutes later Izzy heard the sound of the horses coming up the beaten path. She stood up from the porch and walked to the bannister. She felt oddly like a long suffering wife waiting for her partner to get home from work. What an odd thought, because she had been such a wife, but she had never bothered to wait out on the porch. That would’ve been a useless endeavor for all involved.
Jack raised her arm in a wave and whooped. “I got just what we need,” she shouted. The dust didn’t kick up much as she got closer. When the horses jerked to a stop Izzy could see the mud splattered on the side of the cart. Jack must have ridden quickly, indeed. “I have a few things which’ll make the work light,” Jack said over her shoulder.
Jack scaled the ladder and mounted the roof as if she had been trained to fight fires. She withdrew nails from her pockets and set right to work finishing what Izzy started.
The autumn wind tossed Izzy’s hair wildly and nearly lifted Jack’s hat away from her. Izzy shouldn’t let herself watch her patch the roof, not with her cordless electric drill humming away, penetrating the wood like it was butter. Izzy could feel herself starting to sweat underneath her apron dress. No, no use standing idle. She‘d make tea. She stomped up the porch steps and threw the door open. It slammed shut behind her in the breeze and Izzy flinched.
She filled her kettle with water. It was an ocean blue,a gift from when she got married. Strangely, Izzy only felt calm when she looked at it. She placed it onto the stove and lit the fire in its belly. The drill hummed away some more overhead.
Izzy leaned against the counter and waited for the whistle of the kettle. It was stupid to watch it with her arms folded this way, but she didn’t know what else to do. She was bad at having company. Company. Right, Jack would probably want something to eat with the tea. Jack used to put away food like a horse. Izzy checked the cupboards and decided on cookies. She put some cookies onto a plate. That was fine. Some distant voice inside of her that sounded like her mother urged her to make a more bountiful spread for a guest. She unwrapped the loaf of carrot cake she baked yesterday and cut a few generous slices.
At first Izzy thought the kettle was ready, but then she realized it was Jack’s whistle floating in through the open door. “All done, baby,” Jack said jovially. She had her oddly cut hair tied up and it revealed the strong line of her neck. Izzy averted her gaze.
“Good. There’s food.” Izzy motioned to the table.
Jack rubbed her hands together. “Sweet.” She sat down in the chair across from Izzy. She stuffed one of the shortbread cookies entirely into her mouth. “This isth good,” Jack said. She swallowed and casted around for a drink.
Izzy jumped up to get Jack water. “You finished quicker than I thought you would,” she said sourly. “The kettle’s not ready.”
“Did you bake this?” Jack lifted a slice of carrot cake onto her plate.
“I did.” Izzy set the cup of water in front of Jack perhaps too roughly. She picked up a cookie and took a modest bite. Izzy felt like she’d suddenly forgotten how to make conversation.
“They’re good as shit. I never got the hang of baking myself, but I make a mean fry up.” Jack reached into her back pocket. “Mind if I smoke in here?”
Izzy snorted. How perfectly predictable.
“I know you’re not a narc,” Jack said. The phrase was something she often used to say when revealing the many worldly delights she’d somehow gotten her hands on. Now it wasn’t intimidating like before. It almost sounded like a compliment. With the carton, out came a pack of cards too. Well, they weren’t in a box anymore. Instead they were creased by a rubber band wrapped tightly around them. “You remember how to play gin rummy?” Jack asked.
“I guess so.” Izzy took the cards from Jack and their fingers just brushed.
Jack’s hand skittered up to her cigarette. She tossed her bangs out of her face with a jerk of her head.
“Looks like you still cut your own hair,” Izzy said. She shuffled the cards with satisfying ruffley snaps.
Jack grabbed a piece self-consciously. “If I go to Kevin he doesn’t cut it how I like.”
“I remember,” Izzy said with a stifled laugh. She didn’t want to make Jack feel too badly. When they were maybe 20 Jack’d given in to the community pressure to get a proper haircut. It really hadn’t suited her. She’d walked around with her back half-hunched over and, after some of Ed’s teasing, she’d disappeared into her house for days. When she appeared again it was with a fully shaved head.
“Anyway,” Izzy continued. She started to deal cards back and forth. “I can hold a pair of scissors just fine.”
“Yeah?” Jack smiled at her. She puffed another drag from her ciggie and blew it off to the side away from Izzy’s face. “Might take you up on that. Although, shit, Iz. You’re gonna have me indebted to you up to my eyeballs.”
“Careful I don’t bust your kneecaps,” Izzy said with a mischievous tilt of her mouth. When the tea was ready Izzy poured them both strong cups of earl gray. “Do not take this like a shot, Jack,” she warned. “It’s hot.”
“She cares,” Jack said. She cupped her hands around the tea to feel its warmth. “What do you do these days?”
“I still make blankets.” Izzy pointed towards the room she used for sewing at the front of the house. “I keep my loom in there.”
“That’s awesome. I still do carpentry. If you ever need something, let me know.” Jack tapped her foot on the ground. “Must be annoying to keep this house up by yourself.”
“You do the same,” Izzy pointed out. Even if it was true she bristled at someone bringing it up.
“Ah, yeah. Mine’s smaller though.” Jack looked up at the ceiling and over to the kitchen. “You keep your place way cleaner than I keep mine.”
“I could’ve guessed that.” Izzy laid down two runs. “Your turn.”
Jack drew and looked disappointed. Izzy knew Jack wasn’t feeling competitive today, because otherwise she would’ve kept up her poker face.
“Where do you run your business from?” Izzy asked.
“Oh, from my house. I built myself a workshop. Sometimes I make stuff and give it to the furniture store in town to sell.” Izzy nodded contemplatively. When the game finished Jack excused herself. “The girls are probably hungry, better get them home,” Jack said. “I hope I see you around Izzy. And if you need anything just holler.”
“Right.” Izzy walked with Jack to the door. She leaned against the frame and looked up at Jack’s face. “Bye, Jack.”
“Bye,” Jack said softly. She jogged down the porch steps and to where her horses were tied up. Izzy receded into the house and closed the door with a click. That had been nice.
Thursday Izzy was removing pests from the garden and fixing any wayward stands when she heard a voice calling out. She took off her gloves and stuck them in the pocket of her apron. When she rounded the side of the house she was Mary Bonnet. “Hey Izzy,” Mary said. He had a basket of fresh flowers on his arm. “I came to invite you to the single’s dance.”
“I don’t know, Mary,” Izzy said. The dances are all baby birds and I’m an old hen now.”
Mary offered one of the flowers to Izzy. “Think of this as your invitation,” he said. “You know, Jack’s going to be there. She already said yes.”
“Good for her,” Izzy scowled. She folded her arms and thought for a second. Was Jack really going to find a husband there? Or was it just going to be her wheedling a boy to lose his virginity early in the shadow of her buggy? God. “If you need me for numbers or something I’ll come. You can hardly let Jack scoop up some buck who only thinks with his prick, can you?”
“Exactly,” Mary said with a knowing glint in his eye. “It’s for the good of the community that you come. I’ll see you there.” He turned on his heel and got back up onto his horse. “By the way your house looks lovely,” he said before he galloped off down the road.
Izzy flipped on her headlights as the scarlet evening sun finally slipped behind the tree line and cast the fields in darkness. The community center was left at the fork, drive until you see a steeple in the starlight. Izzy hadn’t been there in decades. Not since she’d sat shyly at dinners across from Ed and stared at her like she hung the moon in the sky.
Izzy was late. She hadn’t wanted to attend the dinner and had instead eaten day old bread with some butter and reheated stew. Eating with everyone was somehow more vulnerable than dancing with them. Izzy shut off the truck and the lights dimmed until she was sitting in pitch darkness. The cold from outside pressed inward and urged Izzy indoors. She looked at the building’s warm light spilling out of the barn’s ajar double doors. She could faintly hear fiddles and cheering.
She could go home. Mary couldn’t make her go in.
Izzy granted herself one last steely sigh before she got out. Her boots crunched in the gravel and drew the interest of the horses, their white eyes glinting. When she opened the door the light inside was almost blinding. Izzy stood motionless for a moment, unsure where to go. Couples danced and whirled in neat pairs around the room. She remembered the dances well, something about muscle memory.
The dance in progress wound down to an end with a resounding cheer and applause. The band shuffled some sheet music and reset to begin a new dance. As if of one mind men and women lined up in two neat rows facing each other. Izzy joined them.
She felt silly lining up next to the round dewy faces of the community’s barely eligible, but she did it. The band started to play and the married
folks watching clapped their hands in rhythm. Izzy found her first partner to be one such young man. He winced when he collided with her clumsily. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“You’re fine,” Izzy said. “Just don’t crush my foot or there’ll be trouble.”
He blanched and it made Izzy laugh as they twirled. They released hands and Izzy found the hands of a twenty-something woman with long braids. “I’m leading,” the woman said.
“Take it away then.” She guided Izzy with confidence, and if Izzy were younger it’d make her swoon. They all collected into neat circles and started to walk and weave until Izzy found herself in front of Jack Rackham herself.
Their bodies met and Izzy fumbled her hands into place to follow. “Aren’t I lucky?” Jack said. She was a wicked fast dancer, but liquid smooth. Izzy could smell a hint of whiskey on her breath, but she managed to half carry Izzy through the dance anyway.
“You’re not bad,” Izzy said.
“Been practicing just for you,” Jack said. When it came time to swap partners Jack didn't let her go. She moved them off to the side to keep dancing. Izzy didn’t say anything. She’d rather keep with Jack too.
Izzy tightened her fingers into the starched fabric of Jack’s shirt. It was a wonder Jack never married. Izzy knew there was a brief courtship with Anne, but it hadn’t lasted. For the best anyhow, because Anne and Mary floated in and out of the community like a river. The last time they left, their neighbor found the house infested with rabbits as if they’d kept dozens as pets. Izzy was fairly sure they sold furniture these days, but she hadn’t seen that for herself.
Jack tipped her back and Izzy clutched onto Jack for dear life. “Warn me first,” Izzy choked out.
Jack hauled her back close to the chest and kept her there. “Sorry,” Jack laughed. She continued with their triple-step round and round. Jack’s eyes didn’t leave Izzy’s face. “You look pretty tonight.”
Izzy thought Jack looked good, too. Her eyes were bright and pleased, and their fondness was aimed only at Izzy. “You clean up nice,” Izzy said.
Jack's eyes crinkled up with the force of her grin. “As long as you think so.”
Izzy was in the middle of sewing fringe onto the end of a blanket when someone banged on the door. Izzy stood and crutched her way over. The person knocked roughly on the door three more times. “Calm down. I’m coming.” Izzy opened up expecting Jack, but instead found Spriggs.
She held up a plate in offering. “I brought cookies. From Roach.” She looked comically out of place in Izzy’s world in her high-vis jacket and high waisted pants.
“Why’re you all the way out here?” Izzy turned around and led Lucius to the kitchen table. Lucius laid the plate down and took the seat across from Izzy. “What do you want?” Izzy asked. Ever since Lucius had left the community Izzy didn’t see her nearly as much.
“Who says I want anything?” Lucius said. She huffed and then, strangely, her posture shrank. “I was wondering if I could draw you. Seriously.”
“Yeah?” Izzy eyed the cookies but didn't unwrap them. “Why’s that?”
Lucius squirmed and leaned back in her chair. She folded her arms and tapped her lips with her prosthetic finger. “I’m just anxious all the time. And I keep having nightmares that she comes back and murders me for real this time.” Lucius squeezed her eyes shut. “And it’s like all I can draw these days.” Her voice dropped so soft, Izzy wasn’t sure she was meant to hear. “I want to draw something else.”
“And that’s me, is it?”
Lucius’s mouth tilted somewhere between a grimace and a smile. “I think so, yeah. Whatever you’re comfortable with, anyway. Clothes, no clothes. Ten minutes, three hours. I’ll make it work.” Her mouth decided on a wry smile. “I always do.”
Izzy finally gave in and grabbed a cookie. They smelled rich and spiced, perfect for harvest time. “Okay. Fine.”
Lucius’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks. I- when did you want to start?”
“Now’s fine. If I’m, you know, fine like this,” Izzy said and motioned to herself somewhat self consciously.
“Yeah, no, that’s perfect. Totally fine.” Lucius dug a sketchbook from her bag and flipped to a fresh page. She stood and dragged her own chair back against the wall for a better view of Izzy. “You know, I heard that you were at the dance this month,” Lucius said. The scritch of her pencil against paper filled the room.
“I was,” Izzy said.
“As full of herself as she is, I actually like Jack.”
Izzy shook her head. Lucius had never been subtle . Not that she tried to be. “Jack’s alright. Why? Are you sniffing around? Seems a little old for you.”
“Hush.” Lucius waved her free hand like she was swatting Izzy’s words out of the air. “I wouldn’t steal your woman, thank you. But, I wouldn’t say no to that age gap. Just saying.”
“Are you waiting on me to do something special?” Izzy asked. She didn’t feel particularly posed. She was sitting at the table like she always did, eating a cookie. Which was pretty fucking tasty actually.
Lucius didn’t look up from her sketch. “No, you’re fine.”
The sound of the pencil lulled Izzy into an almost hypnotic trance. Her mind didn’t wander so much as it settled into a stream of inconsequential thoughts. She picked one up like a stone and examined it. “You’re not smoking today.”
“Yeah.” Lucius looked up at Izzy sheepishly. “I’m trying to quit. Pete doesn’t like the smell and it’s kind of lonely standing outside by myself.”
“You got the patches?”
“Yeah.” Lucius made another line, smudged something with her thumb. “Fang’s quit before. She’s got all the tips.”
“Yeah,” Izzy echoed.
“Alright, base sketch, wanna see?” Lucius laid her sketchbook out in front of Izzy on the table.
“You did all that so quickly?” Izzy murmured.
“Yeah, I know. I’m pretty talented,” Lucius said. “I brought my tablet. Wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure.”
Lucius dragged the table towards the couch and tapped at it quickly. “I downloaded one in advance since you don’t have wifi,” Lucius grumbled.
“I don’t need it. Don’t want it either.” She and Lucius curled onto the couch and watched in silence. The film was about lesbians fighting each other. A lot of the cultural references went over Izzy’s ahead, but the emotional notes she could understand.
Three quarters through Lucius paused the movie. “Hang on, have to pee.”
While she was gone Izzy picked up her sketchbook which was still open to the sketch. Maybe she should have the girl finish it so she could hang it up. It might look kind of regal and interesting to have. She didn’t have much art she cared about.
When Lucius returned she curled her knees up and faced Izzy. She patted Izzy’s shoulder. “Now, give me the dirt on you and Jack Rackham.”
“We’re not gonna finish the film?”
Lucius shrugged mischievously. “After you give me details.”
“I’m going to need whiskey for this,” Izzy rasped. She poured a finger into a glass for herself and settled heavy back onto the couch. Lucius tossed the blanket back over both of their laps. “There’s no dirt.”
“She just danced all night with you for no reason.”
“Who told you about that?”
Lucius actually scoffed. “Tons of people were there. Of course I heard about it. It was all anyone could talk about, how she kept you to herself as long as she could.” She pulled a packet of tobacco from her pocket and some papers and started rolling on the table. When Izzy raised a brow, Lucius rolled her eyes. “If you’re gonna drink, I’m gonna smoke. I didn’t say I was doing well at quitting. Anyway, you two have known each other for ages. What changed?”
“Nothing changed,” Izzy grumbled. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Her whole life was unrecognizable now and to some degree so was Izzy. “She came sniffing around a few weeks ago.”
“What was her excuse?” Lucius asked with a wry little smile. She sucked in smoke and blew it into Izzy’s face.
“Little cunt,” Izzy said, but she didn't wave the smoke away. The smell was somewhat comforting. “Her chicken ended up on my porch.”
“Doesn’t she live like 8 miles from here?”
“Yeah.” Izzy leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Knowing her, she dropped it off on purpose.”
“Weird,” Lucius said. “Maybe charming. I can’t tell.” She took another drag. “Because you rarely leave the house except for church. So it’s hard to organically run into you. I mean, look at me, I had to get myself all the way out here just to hang out.”
“I don’t live that far from you.”
“It’s the principle,” Lucius whined. “You don’t visit my place. I’m always coming here.”
“Turn the movie back on. You got your details.”
“Fine, fine.”
At Sunday service Izzy didn’t make it past the threshold before she was accosted. “Izzy,” Jim said. “We’re having a dinner tonight. It’d be nice if you could make it. Last minute invite, so no stress if you don’t have time to cook something.”
Izzy should have said no, but it was an earnest invitation. “Maybe,” she said. She moved to her pew and sat down with a grunt that she tried to muffle. She could bring chicken to the dinner. She should’ve asked how many people were going to be there. Izzy didn’t double back, anyhow.
It struck Izzy as the hard wood of the pew made her ass ache that Jim had waited outside Sunday service just to speak with her. Jim didn’t belong to the order and neither did any of their partners. They simply purchased dairy and other goods from the community, sometimes they traded or lent out tools.
She felt almost ashamed that Jim went out of their way, but shame was a useless emotion. Her therapist told her it was better to be thankful. That was easier said than done.
The house was warm to the point of humidity with bodies crushed together and free flowing wine in every glass. Jim led Izzy around to the table and pointed to an empty chair. Every chair was all mismatched, brought along by guests or simply bought from flea markets. Jim lived on the edge of the community and did something with social media that Izzy wasn’t clear on. They were apparently quite popular.
Tonight there were over a dozen people, but every one she knew. Oluwande leaned forward with a kind smile on her face. “How ya been, Izzy?” she said.
“So, Izzy,” Jim started. “We were wondering if you wanted help with stuff this year.”
“For the autumn festival,” Archie chimed in with her mouth half-full. She swallowed quickly and looked eagerly between Oluwande and Jim.
“We want to learn, mostly,” Oluwande said cautiously. “You know, making butter, baking things, knitting hats. Whatever you usually do to prepare.”
“For the autumn festival?” Izzy asked.
They all nodded.
“Plus we wouldn’t be total dead weight, cause Roach and Wee John would be there,” Jim said. “They actually know what they’re doing.”
Roach preened and smiled at Izzy. “We think it would be fun. Plus, I can lend you some of my kitchen equipment.”
Izzy didn’t see how she had much of a choice. They’d clearly planned to ask her well in advance. This whole evening had been set up to ask her, it seemed. “If you want to come, I won’t stop you. I’m not gonna let you all laze about, if you’re there to help I’ll put you to work.”
“Yes!” Archie pumped her fist in the air. “I love harvest time. It used to be my job to husk the corn and also do some of the carving.” Jim rubbed Archie’s back in small circles at that. Archie talked about her past fondly, but in a way that made everyone mildly worried for her.
Izzy, ever the pot-stirrer, bit if only to shift the attention off of herself. “What did you carve?”
“We used to carve animal skulls to look like big snake skulls. Cause you can get a snake one, but you can’t wear it, cause it’s too small, you know?” She mimed the size of the snake with her hand. “And we’d wear them as masks when we dance around the bonfire.”
“Could’ve made one out of wood,” Frenchie muttered.
Roach leaned around Jim to meet Archie’s eye. “I think it’s cool.”
“Maybe I’ll make you one this year,” Archie said brightly. She shoveled more food into her mouth.
The conversation swirled back up. Lucius and Pete sat on the end, fully engrossed in each other for the moment. Izzy begrudgingly thought they suited each other well. If she were a different woman she could see herself attached to them in some way.
“Izzy?” Frenchie grabbed her attention. “Do you guys leave food out for spirits during the festival?”
Izzy shook her head. “We don’t, but you can set some out on my windowsill.”
“Oh, good,” Frenchie said with relief. “You can’t leave them out of the celebration. It’s rude.”
The doorbell rang loudly, just audible over the din of chatter. Jim rose and waved off anyone else who tried to get the door. Izzy couldn’t see who it was, but she tried to guess. The couple in question wouldn’t be invited. Maybe that new partner of Oluwande’s?
Jim returned followed by Jack, of all people. She was in her usual clothes, hat still on because her hands were full. “Hey, sorry I’m late, but I brought a shit ton of beer,” Jack said. “I hope there’s dessert.”
“Yeah, Roach made some,” Archie said. She leapt up to bump fists with Jack and take one of the cases.
Jack finally removed her hat and shook out her messy hair like a wet dog. She dragged a chair around towards the side of the table Izzy was at. Like the betrayer she was, Wee John scooted away from Izzy to make room. When Jack sat she jostled Izzy slightly, limbs squeezing into the tight space with a clumsy charm. She ducked down right by Izzy’s ear. “Nice to see you. Sorry I missed the main event.”
“You didn’t miss anything,” Izzy said. “I didn’t realize they still– that you all talked.”
“Oh, not really,” Jack said with a faux-sheepishness. “They just invited me tonight. Said it was a ‘all are welcome’ type of gig.”
“Whatever,” Izzy said. She flicked her eyes down to Lucius. “Are the horses outside?
“Oh, no. I left ‘em at a friend’s and walked here. It’s why I’m late.”
“I can give you a ride back to the friends’. When we go,” Izzy said.
“Thanks, Iz,” Jack said. “That’s why I never got myself a truck like yours. They can’t give me a DUI for my buggy.” She slapped her knee and cackled at her joke.
Izzy rolled her eyes, but a little smile made its way onto her face. “You’re an idiot.” She couldn’t focus too long on the way Jack smirked back at her. It would stay with her until she was alone in bed with a hand in her knickers.
“Can someone pass the potatoes?” Jack asked. “I better eat some real grub before I get smashed.”
Jack was smashed.
Izzy crawled into the truck, but wondered if she should go around to give Jack a boost.
“Damn this thing is high up,” Jack chortled. “You got a step stool over there?”
“Just get in,” Izzy said flatly. Suddenly, she didn’t want to help Jack in that much. Once Jack was settled Izzy pulled onto the road with a jerky press of the gas just to make Jack go sliding. “Which way?”
“Oh, uhh,” Jack squinted in the dark. “Right.”
Izzy turned and things fell quiet except for the hum of the engine. “Where’d you go?” Izzy asked.
“Huh? What do you mean? Did I nod off?” Jack cocked her head like a curious pup. Izzy knew that Jack had caught on to Izzy’s meaning, but she was going to make Izzy say it.
“Jack,” Izzy pleaded.
“Iz.” Jack said her name with a sudden world weariness, as if everything came crashing down on her shoulders at once. “You didn’t want me around. I wasn’t…good back then.”
Izzy stayed quiet and watched the road.
Jack laughed wryly. “And then, when I did try to interfere I got a big fuckin’ hole in my stomach.”
Izzy’s mouth twisted with guilt. She had asked Jack to do that too. And then Izzy had still gone back to Ed afterwards like an idiot.
“And you,” Jack’s voice broke. “You lost your leg, Iz. And I couldn’t do shit about it from my hospital bed. Couldn’t even visit you or fuck Eddie up like she deserved.”
Izzy reached out to put her hand on Jack’s leg. They were coming up on the stables, but this conversation wasn’t nearly over yet. Izzy slowed down anyway to make the turn. She parked, but Jack didn't move.
“I’m the reason I lost my leg,” Izzy said finally. “I dangled my legs over water where I knew there was a shark swimming and I got bit.”
“Oh, fuck that,” Jack said. She went to grab Izzy’s hand and then seemed to rethink it. “Nothing you could’ve done was worth that. Nobody deserves that kind of treatment.”
“It’s over now,” Izzy said. She didn’t want to have this fight. “Get home, Jack. You’re drunk.”
“So?” Jack threw open the truck door and half fell out. “I know I’m right. You could’ve been the biggest piece of shit on the planet and you wouldn’t have deserved that. It’s not how it works.” She went to shut the door and paused, steely eyes fixed on Izzy in the dark. “She egged you on plenty and you didn’t shoot her damn leg.”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Izzy growled. “Close the door.”
Jack slammed the door and stalked off. Izzy reversed off like a shot and drove off down the road.
“Reporting for duty,” Jim said. They gave Izzy a side-hug as they walked in.
“Just tell us where to go and we’ll help,” Oluwande said as she passed. “This is a lovely home.” Fang, Roach, Archie trickled in one by one.
Izzy pointed to the windows. “I need those open. We’re going to bake a couple batches of mini apple pies and molasses crisp cookies. Then when those are done, I’m going to finish a few candles.” She walked over to the couch where there was a large stack. “These are the blankets I have ready for sale. Someone can add price tags for me.” Izzy turned around herself. “And someone should harvest whatever’s ready from the garden. I might have to jar and can something or just sell my extra produce.”
“You got it, boss,” Fang said affectionately. Immediately everyone started squabbling over jobs, except for Roach who leaned against the kitchen counter with confidence.
“I’m going to show you how to bake the cookies and the pies,” Izzy said to Roach. “I bought all the butter in advance, but we might need more.”
“You don’t make your own butter?” Archie asked.
“Not anymore. I get mine from someone else who makes it fresh.”
“Oh, cool.” Archie said. She jerked her thumb outside. “I’m gonna pick veg.”
“I’ll join her,” Jim said.
“I’ll label your blankets,” Fang said.
“I’ll fill in wherever I’m needed,” Oluwande said. “Extra hands in the kitchen? I make an okay sous chef.”
Izzy nodded. “I’ve already lit the fires. Let’s make coffee before we do anything more.”
By the time the coffee was done, Lucius, Pete, and Wee John had arrived late. “ I never promised to be here on time,” Lucius said as she sauntered in. She gave Izzy a hug and sniffed the air appreciatively. “Those apples smell incredible.”
“Wee John, we’re going to need more butter,” Roach said. “Izzy says she has a guy.”
“I do.” Izzy looked around nervously at everyone. “Can I trust you won’t all burn my house down if I go to get more butter?”
“We won’t!”
“No promises,” Wee John said.
“Right, then you’re the one I’m taking with me,” Izzy said. “Wash the produce and put it in the cornucopia. Roach, watch the food. Um, we can eat soup for lunch?”
“Aw, yeah, we picked some choice potatoes,” Archie said.
“Do your jobs,” Izzy commanded one last time. “Properly.”
On the road, Wee John tapped a nervous rhythm on her leg.
Izzy muttered, “There are too many people in there. Didn’t need all of them to come.”
“That’s half the fun,” Wee John said. She rolled down her window. “So, is this gonna be like a tense handover?”
“What? No. It’s butter.”
“I dunno. You’re being kinda weird and tense about it.”
“I’m fine.” It took a good chunk of time to get there. Long enough that Wee John started telling work stories on the way.
They pulled up to a small house with a tiny little stable. Izzy could feel Wee John’s curiosity growing. Izzy hopped down and ran a hand through her hair to straighten it out. She knocked on the door twice, sharp and quick.
“Comin’,” a low voice called. When Steak answered her face immediately burst into a smile. “Izzy Hands, great to see you.” She patted Izzy on the shoulder so hard it almost made Izzy step back.
“Hi Steak, I’m here for more butter. Underestimated the amount I’d need for the festival.”
“No problem. Come in.” Steak walked them to her gas-powered fridge, similar to Izzy’s but much, much larger. “How many pounds?”
“3 should suffice,” Izzy said. “I can bring you eggs this week or I have cash now.”
“Eggs would be great,” Steak said. “Means I get to see you again,” she said. Her cheeks turned faintly red. “Do you need any help with preparation?”
“I appreciate the offer,” Izzy said. “But my house is full of little helpers right now.”
“Right, of course,” Steak said, clearly trying to hide her disappointment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then, Steak.”
When they reached the truck Wee John hissed, “I cannot believe that just happened.”
“What?”
“Are you like the number one most wanted bachelorette and we didn’t know? She was going to eat you up.”
“That was…nothing.” Izzy put the wrapped butter into Wee John’s hands. “It’s never gone anywhere. Probably isn’t going to.”
“It clearly could,” Wee John said with delight.
When they arrived back at the house Izzy was relieved to find nothing on fire and no one was loudly fighting. Wee John beat her through the front door and completely ignored Izzy. “We’re back,” Wee John sang. “And you’ll never guess…the butter lady has the hots for Izzy.”
Frenchie stopped playing her lute and smirked.
“No way,” Jim said with delight. They temporarily ignored the card game they were playing with Archie. “¿En serio? ¿Una mujer de manteca? Since when?”
“Since never,” Izzy growled. “Don’t you have something to do?”
“Roach is making soup,” Archie said. “It’s break time.”
Izzy felt her shoulders drop a few centimeters. She made a show of reluctantly joining them, but she was hungry and glad to have someone else cook.
“So what’s the deal with Butter Woman?” Archie asked. “Is she cute?”
“Please drop this. My personal life is none of your fucking business, you nosy twats. Deal me into the game.”
“She’s really buff and she flirted super hard with Izzy, the poor thing,” Wee John said. She lounged on the couch, unbothered to join the card game.
“That’s because Izzy’s interested in someone else,” Lucius said airily. She perched on the arm of the couch with her legs crossed. “Maybe we’ll see her at the festival tomorrow?”
Izzy glared daggers at Lucius. Little traitoress. They all seem to immediately know who, considering Jack was at the dinner last week.
“She’s pretty cool,” Frenchie said amicably.
The hour grew late and while everyone could have gone home, they decided instead to dip into the wine they brought. Izzy hadn’t noticed the bottles in the flurry of making and eating and cooking, but she accepted the glass that was poured for her.
“My nana makes it,” Jim said. “She sends me a couple bottles every year.”
Izzy clutched her glass in her fingers and leaned her head on Fang’s arm. “I don’t have anywhere for you all to sleep,” she said.
“We’ll rough it,” Archie said. “We’ve done it before.” She kissed Jim quickly with a pleased smile on her face.
“Better than camping,” Wee John said. “I fuckin’ hate camping.”
When they turned in for the night everyone crammed into Izzy’s room to lie on the floor. They decided Lucius could share Izzy’s bed because of her back.
It was Pete that noticed the small shelf nailed to the wall above the fireplace like a makeshift mantle. It was really too small as a proper mantle though. She grabbed the unicorn and held it up. “Aww, you keep it in your room,” she said. She petted her hand down its wooden back. “That’s so nice.”
Izzy wanted to yell at her to put it back. She didn’t want it to get ruined or for Pete to drop it accidentally. Instead, Izzy held her breath until Pete returned the unicorn to its spot. When Izzy looked down she saw everyone either looking at her with sappy faces or deliberately avoiding her eyes. “Go to bed,” she said. “And don’t break my things, Pete.”
“I’d never do that,” Pete said earnestly.
Lucius kissed her girl goodnight before she joined Izzy in the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my arms and legs inside the ride at all times,” she said.
“Don’t be so nervous, Lucy,” Izzy said. She laid her head on the pillow and faced away from Lucius. “Come be the big spoon. If you like.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucius giggled. She sounded taken aback, but within a moment Izzy felt Lucius’s arm’s weight on her side. Izzy drifted asleep to the lullaby of soft talking and faint snoring.
Izzy awoke to the smell of coffee. It was surprising that someone had woken up sooner than she had. Izzy carefully extricated herself from Lucius’s octopus arms. uietly she put on her prosthetic. It wasn’t easy weaving between the still-sleeping bodies. She was certain the sound of her footsteps would wake one of them, but if anyone roused they didn’t make it obvious.
In the kitchen Izzy found Fang silhouetted by the lavender gray of the dusky sunrise. “I should’ve known you’d be the only one responsible enough to be awake and making coffee,” Izzy said.
Fang only smiled gently and poured a cup for them both. She took out two of the mini apple pies that were deemed too ugly for sale and set them on a plate on the table. Izzy sat down and absently massaged her wrists. Everything ached from being on her feet most of the day yesterday, especially her nub. Fang stoked the fire and took the seat across from Izzy.
“The quiet life suits you,” Fang said thoughtfully.
“Always suited you,” Izzy returned. “Shame you didn’t get that as much as you wanted.”
Fang met her eyes dead on. “It is,” she said. “I’m gonna take an ice fishing trip in a couple of weeks. Would you want to come?”
“I’ll think about it,” Izzy said. “Will Ivan be there?”
Fang shook her head slowly. “She’s taking her space and it’s well-deserved.”
“Yeah.” Izzy looked down. She felt a burst of shame well up in her stomach. She should’ve spoken up sooner. But shoulds didn’t change anything. “They’re all going to be in our business in a second. We’ll probably need a second pot of coffee.”
Everyone climbed into the bed of the truck with the blankets and food and produce piled high. Black Pete begged for shotgun and so Lucius and her squeezed in next to Izzy in the cabin.
“Do you do any woodworking, Izzy?” Pete asked.
“Used to,” Izzy grunted. She drove carefully down the bumpy roads, mindful of the ones in the back. Ed would’ve spitefully gone over bumps and spun donuts until everyone begged her to stop.
Izzy shook her head as they left the olde land and headed into the small local town. The market was on a cordoned off Main Street. Izzy parked around the corner in a tight lot and led the whole group to where her stall was supposed to be.
“Morning, Izzy,” Maggie waved.
Izzy tipped her head in greeting. She liked Maggie. Thankfully, the boys had already set up the canvas tent and the foldout table and chairs. Izzy fussed over the layout of the goods and their marked prices until Fang guided her to one of the chairs. “It’s cold, here,” she said, and she laid a blanket on Izzy’s lap.
“Does anyone have hot chocolate or cider or something?” Archie asked.
“Zheng’s place is around the corner,” Oluwande said with a bashful smile. “It won’t be open until later, though.”
“There’s a place two blocks north,” Izzy pointed. “Go and quit whining about it.” They decided amongst themselves to send Lucius and Fang with their orders. “Black coffee for me,” Izzy said to Lucius.
An hour in Izzy had grown used to the flow of traffic. She’d gotten compliments on her baked goods and she’d sold three blankets. That was, of course, when Jack swaggered up. “Well,” Jack said. “Nice stand you got here.” She knocked her fist on the top of it like it was one of the chairs she’d made.
“Jack,” Izzy greeted her. “Are you gonna buy something or just loiter?”
Jack smiled winningly at Izzy. “How about a trade?”
“I have all the furniture I need,” she said.
“Nah, how about you set aside some of that produce and I’ll cook you a nice dinner tonight,” she said. When Izzy didn’t immediately respond Jack leaned back a little. “You know, if you want.”
Izzy ran a hand through her hair. She could feel the group watching her, waiting to hear what she’d say. “Okay. Should I prepare anything?”
“I don’t want you to lift a finger, doll. You prepped enough for today. But if there’re any cookies left I’ll eat those until I’m sick,” she said.
“There might be cookies,” Izzy said. “You have a station to run.”
“Yeah. I’ll call on you at 7?”
Izzy nodded and waved Jack off as a group wandered up to peruse the blankets. Oluwande cut in. “I’ll handle them, yeah?”
Meanwhile Jim and Archie were free to ambush Izzy. “Izzy,” Jim hissed. “She just asked you on a date. And you said yes!”
“I did,” Izzy said calmly. “Not that it’s your business, is it?”
“Aw, come on, old lady,” Archie said. Izzy gave her a death glare for that. “We’re excited for you. I think she’s great.”
Jack moved around the kitchen with ease. She seasoned and sliced and fried like a chef at heart, even though Izzy knew her repertoire was rather small. At least, it used to be.
Jack placed a candle on the table and lit it with a match that she shook out after. “A little ambience,” she winked.
Izzy watched the flame flicker and dance. Jack started to hum in the background some song Izzy didnt recognize. It could’ve been made up whole cloth or it could’ve been something off her secret radio, knowing Jack.
“You know, I made a chair for a fella the other day and he had me cut a hole in the bottom,” Jack said.
Izzy felt her face grow hot. “That’s disgusting.”
“Is it? I was gonna ask if you wanted one,” Jack said with a cheeky smirk. “Do you?”
“No, Jack.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “I don’t have anything to attach to it.”
“I could be your chair,” Jack said. “I got a little something.”
Izzy burst out laughing. “Keep it in your pants.”
Jack seemed pleased to have made Izzy laugh. She covered the pot on the stove with a lid and joined Izzy at the table with two cups of water. “Water for the lady.”
Izzy held it up in a mock cheer before drinking deeply. She was probably wildly dehydrated. “And besides the chair business? Things are…?” she asked.
“Nothing much,” Jack admitted.
The food was a hot stew with beef and root vegetables and warm spices. Izzy ate until she felt absolutely stuffed and Jack did the same, only half of her dinner was the rest of the molasses cookies. In truth, Izzy would have sold them all, but she had set aside a dozen or so for Jack.
“Mm, I need to stretch out after all that food,” Jack said and she patted her belly. “Mind if I take the couch?”
“Go ahead,” Izzy said.
Jack plopped down and the old couch moaned under her weight. As if it only just occurred to her now, Jack lifted her shirt up. “I don’t know if you ever saw the full damage.” Her stomach skin was uneven, warped and stretched and grafted. There were dozens of small surgery scars, long healed, and one larger one that was thick with tissue.
“I didn’t,” Izzy admitted. “I only heard about it after. When you were in the hospital.”
“I think it made some pretty sick scars.” Jack traced the largest one with her finger. “They said I was lucky my intestines were still functional after what the branch did.”
“The branch?” Izzy asked.
“When the car crashed I went through the windshield and I was impaled on a tree branch. A little one though.”
She talked about it so glibly. Izzy didn’t know if she really felt that way about it now or if it was some kind of defense mechanism. It was Ed that had crashed the car. Jack had only been in the car in the first place because Izzy had begged her to check up on Ed.
Some of the turmoil must have shown on Izzy’s frozen face. Jack dropped her shirt. “I didn’t mean to upset you, baby. I was just trying to be vulnerable and shit.” She folded her hands together as if to hold herself back from reaching out. “We’ve both been through it, eh?”
“Yeah,” Izzy said. She suddenly wanted to be held, but she couldn’t ask for that. She silently begged Jack to notice, to take the hint.
“You’re looking a little cold. Wanna join me on the couch? You can even use me as a pillow.”
Izzy nodded ever so slightly. Jack fully laid down and opened her arms. So Izzy sat down first, then removed her prosthetic and liner. She delicately set them aside before she crawled on top of Jack and laid her ear over Jack’s heart.
This, this was good. Izzy focused on letting her body go limp. Jack’s heartbeat thumped in her ear and Jack’s hand curved around to lay heavy on Izzy’s back, just between her shoulder blades.
“I missed you,” Izzy said. “All the time. I thought you died for a little bit. No one knew what had happened.”
“I was so certain that I was going to be stuck in the hospital and too late,” Jack said. Her voice was thick with welling tears. “It’s fuckin’ stupid. I know you can handle yourself, but I also know it’s not that easy.”
Hesitantly, Izzy raised her hand and laid it out over Jack’s chest. “I’m sorry I wasted your time,” Izzy said.
Jack fully wrapped her arms around Izzy’s waist. “It’s not wasted. And, hey, I’m here now, right?” She kissed Izzy firmly on the top of her head and sniffled. “I’m here now. Not crying or anything, just having a nice cuddle.” She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hands and the motion rocked Izzy, whose eyes were leaking into Jack’s shirt. “Shit,” Jack huffed with an air of mirth.
“We’re always crying about something,” Izzy said.
“It’s cause you make me wet, baby,” Jack said.
Izzy groaned, but she was grateful for the redirect anyway.
Some amount of time later, Jack eased her up. “I’ve gotta piss, darlin’.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Izzy said through a yawn. It must have gotten late by now. She should go to sleep.
“I’ll let myself out, okay?” Jack said softly.
“Okay.” Izzy folded her hands in her lap anxiously. “What are you doing next Saturday?”
“Waitin’ for you to call on me,” Jack said. “Whatcha got in mind?”
“We could plant together? Unless that’s too much like work.”
“That sounds fine with me.” Jack bent down and hovered just in front of her face before leaning in to kiss her. Izzy immediately surrendered to it and arched to meet Jack’s stooped angle.
They parted with heated eyes for each other. Jack looked longingly towards the bedroom, donned her hat, and left with an affectionate, “See you around, Iz. Goodnight.”
Izzy laid out the fabric swatches over her sewing table. Her hand-crank operated sewing machine was ancient and smelled oddly metallic. That was why she hated using it over her loom. It was at least less odorous than a gas powered machine.
She smoothed out the edges of a fabric dotted with tiny palominos in different colors. She’d bought it years ago, with Jack in mind, and then it had gone into her quilting storage box for some unspecified future date.
Izzy prided herself on her even stitching and neat work. She didn’t think Jack would care about that. In fact, back in the day her lumpy, ugly projects were given to Jack so the perfect finished product could go to Ed. Jack deserved some of her best work.
“Good morning, Izzy,” Ricky said. Her plain clothes were elaborately stitched with bees and flowers. She was one of the few converts to the old way, though Izzy had heard she filled her home with the oddest contraptions to the point of ridiculousness. “I’ve been trying to get my mouth to your ear, you know.”
“Is that right?” Izzy said flatly. She folded her arms and waited for what Ricky could possibly have to say to her.
“Well, I heard you might be available for courting. That is, you’ve ended your period of mourning. I was thinking that I might invite you to my abode for a little tete-a-tete.”
“No, thanks, Ricky.” Izzy turned to go to her seat, but Ricky grabbed her arm.
“Why? It isn’t that mongrel with a hole in her stomach, is it?”
Izzy didn’t need to hear anymore. Visions of shoving Ricky against the wall and choking her flit through her mind. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Izzy settled for. “Mind yourself, Ricky.”
Izzy shoved past her and sat in her usual pew. On the one hand it was nice to get confirmation of what she already knew: the vultures were circling. God, she wanted a cigarette right now.
Izzy eyed the pastor flipping through his Bible to the brilliant red bookmark he had placed inside. She desperately wanted to leave, but then Ricky would win.
Izzy clenched her teeth and mentally started patterning a new blanket. She did her best to tune out the sermon and she hoped she looked solemn enough that she passed as listening.
Izzy eased down onto her ass next to the garden bed. She poked a finger into the soil and swirled it around into a neat hole. Then she dropped a seed in and carefully covered it up. Izzy knew she was being too precious this morning. She needed to move quicker, but Jack was here, too. Two made the work lighter.
If Jack were working. Currently, she was laid out in the leaves, hands behind her head, watching Izzy.
“I thought you were gonna help,” Izzy said.
“Come on, Izzy. I’m just enjoying the weather.”
“You can do that at home.”
“Okay, fine. Fine.” She clambered to her feet and joined Izzy next to the garden bed. “What are we planting?”
“Spinach and collard greens.”
“Mm.” Jack wrinkles her nose. “Not a fan of green unless it’s, you know.” She mimed sucking in smoke from her fingers.
“It’s a wonder anyone in the community still talks to you,” Izzy said.
When they were done Jack offered her a hand up. “Can I give you a lift home?”
“I’m already home,” Izzy said. “Are you drunk?”
“Sorry,” Jack said with a grin. “I meant my home.”
Izzy didn’t have to think it over for long. “Okay.”
Jack held her hand and led her to her buggy. She helped Izzy onto the seat like the gentleman she rarely was. The horses were both a pretty chestnut color and clearly well cared for. Izzy smoothed her black skirts out and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m glad you said yes.” Jack smiled at her bashfully. “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.”
It was dumb the way that set Izzy’s heart to fluttering. She couldn’t remember any time when someone expressed the same sentiment and it moved her. Her and Eddie’s companionship had been a given and rarely expressed with words. In fact, it was the words that had killed it.
“Well,” Izzy said. “I’ve never been to yours.” Not strictly true, but Jack was always boasting about the remodeling she’d done. “I need a chance to see it.”
Jack immediately perked up. “That’s right you haven’t. Wait til you see the porch. It’s got a swing now and everything.”
“This is good work, Jack,” Izzy said. “Sturdy.” Her fingers itched to carve fancy flowers into it. Twisting vines and maybe a swallow would make the bench so lovely. She had always been best at the delicate carvings and embossing of woodwork. She hadn’t carved anything in some time. She hadn’t been bothered to for the more practical furnishings in her life. For a moment Izzy’s mind flashed to the simple chairs and tables in her home and then, then an idea formed.
“Jackie?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
When Izzy looked down she saw Jack’s hand not so far from her own as if trying to work up the courage.
“Would you make a set of chairs for me? Maybe four?”
“Yeah, I can. You don’t like yours?”
“Mine are alright. But Jim and Archie don’t have nearly enough for all of us when we’re there.”
“Oh,” Jack said with understanding. “That’s sweet of you.”
“I’ll carve something into it. Maybe orange blossoms.”
“I think they’ll love that, Iz.”
“Don’t tell them,” Izzy said. “It’ll be a surprise. A holiday gift.”
“Yeah, of course.” Jack smiled at her. “It’ll be so casual and not sentimental at all.” Izzy could remember a time when Jack would’ve called her stupid for making such a gift. But then again, even young Jack hadn’t practiced what she preached.
“Oh, shut up.” Izzy took Jack’s hand with a surge of confidence. She was a grown woman who could make her own choices. She might even deserve to be happy, just like this. “Do you remember when you knit me that hat?”
“Iz- don’t,” Jack spluttered. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up!”
Izzy chuckled. “It was perfect.” She leaned in close to Jack’s ear and whispered, “I still have it.”
Jack’s eyes widened and she squeezed Izzy’s hand. “You’re shittin’ me. I figured you’d burn it as soon as I left.”
“It’s there. It’ll probably end up as pillow stuffing one day, but not now.” Izzy laid her other hand on Jack’s thigh. “Why don’t you come inside?”
Jack looked down at Izzy’s hand and then back up to her face. “Yeah.” She began nodding slowly, then quicker, gaining confidence.. “Yeah, let’s go, baby.”
Jack helped Izzy to her feet and they hurried through the back door. Izzy reached for the ribbon at her collar and then paused. “We should wash. I’m filthy.”
“Izzy, sugarbutt, I love a bit of musk and I think I’ll actually die if you keep those tits from me one second longer.”
Izzy tried to go back to her buttons with shaking hands.
Jack dug her fingers into the waist of Izzy’s apron skirt like a ravenous beast. “Come on, baby. Help me,” Jack said. She pulled on the ties and yanked, still fairly gentle. Then Jack lifted the clothes over her head, the next layer down her body, until Izzy sat bare.
Jack’s pants were half kicked to her ankles and her hat had fallen on the floor. She was about to tear her button up in half when Izzy stopped her. “Don’t ruin that. I’ll be the one sewing it up, you fool.” Jack leaned down and Izzy unbuttoned each button methodically. She wasn’t moved to haste by her need but she could feel it building up in her extremities, warm and hungry.
It felt unbearably good to feel so wanting and so wanted.
Once Jack was free of her shirt she kissed Izzy as if she couldn’t wait one more second. Izzy placed her hand flat on Jack’s chest. “My leg,” she said softly. She looked up at Jack with some trepidation.
“Oh, yeah. Am I allowed to help with that too?” Jack asked. She dropped to her knees and curled her hands into fists.
“Yeah, just be careful. It’s fuckin’ expensive.”
“Yeah.” Jack gently pulled her prosthetic off. “Holy shit, you got a weapon under here,” Jack said. She poked at the pin on the end of the liner. “I bet you could do some serious damage in a fight with this.”
“Jack,” Izzy said with fond exasperation. “Focus.”
“Right, yeah.” Jack eased the liner off and draped that over the nightstand. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you?”
“No, get up here.” Izzy scooted back on the bed and Jack crawled over her to chase her mouth. Izzy looped her hand around and palmed the back of Jack’s neck to keep her close, right against her chest.
“Do you want fingers or my mouth?” Jack asked. “Because I would love to eat you out, Iz, I’ve had dreams- ”
“Go ahead,” Izzy said. “Show me.”
Jack parted Izzy’s legs with splayed fingers, feeling as much of Izzy’s skin at once as she could. She bent down, scooped her arms and hauled Izzy close. “Gorgeous bush,” she said and Izzy pretended to smack her. Jack licked like she hadn’t had water in years and Izzy’s cunt was her oasis. She flickered over Izzy’s clit and traced greedy circles around it.
Izzy held Jack by the hair and pulled a little.. She’d always wondered if Jack liked her hair pulled and when Jack moaned and lavished Izzy more eagerly, Izzy knew she did.
It was all pleasurable and the crest of her orgasm was a soft and wonderful peak, luxurious and rolling. If she were younger she’d turn over and ask for more, but she was old enough to think of Jack’s pleasure and so she beckoned Jack up.
“I want you up here,” Izzy said. She brought Jack’s face to nestle in her cleavage while her hand reached down to her puffy cunt. She was engorged with desire, bush messy and wild. Izzy rubbed two fingers at her hole, ignoring Jack’s clit entirely, before pushing in.
“Izzy,” Jack whimpered. She clutched onto Izzy’s side and pressed kisses to her sternum. Her left leg bent to find purchase, so she had the leverage to rock into Izzy’s fingers. “More, please, baby.” Jack was wonderfully needy and pathetic during sex, chasing her orgasm with a one track mind. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, so good to me. Shit.”
Izzy kept pumping with two fingers, occasionally reaching up to brush Jack’s clit with her thumb. Jack’s cunt pulsed around her and eagerly clamped down. It wasn’t long before Jack was mostly riding her hand and half rutting into her thigh. She lapped and sucked at Izzy’s breasts eagerly, blindly. She only cut off to squeak a little when she came, which Izzy found stupidly charming.
“Mm, thank you, baby,” Jack said. She didn’t move, only flipped over out of the sweat pool and groaned.
“No, we’re cleaning up,” Izzy said. “I have spare sheets.”
“We can cuddle over here,” Jack said. “There’s enough space if we curl around.”
“Jack,” Izzy said again. Izzy prodded her with her elbow. “New sheets now .”
“Mm, you look pretty,” Ed said. She reached down and stroked Izzy’s leg. Her hand closed around Izzy’s left calf and squeezed comfortingly.
“Yeah?” Izzy couldn’t help flushing with pleasure. “I shaved too. You can feel it, yeah?”
“Course.” Ed’s grip on her leg grew firmer.
“You’re hurting me,” Izzy mumbled. “Ed, you’re hurting me. Let go.” She jerked her leg but it wouldn’t listen to her. Ed’s fingers dug with white hot pain into her flesh, searing to the bone. “Eddie!”
Izzy jerked awake with a gasp. Her heart was pounding, ready to leap into fight or flight mode. Jack was still out cold next to her.
Izzy folded in on herself. “Fuck off,” she mumbled. “Course you’d make yourself known after last night.” She reached down and massaged her nub. What time was it?
Izzy looked around for a clock, but there wasn’t one. Did Jack have a phone? She used to. Izzy eased out of the bed and put her prosthetic on. She didn’t want to, not while her leg was fucking burning, but she didn’t have her crutches. Izzy checked Jack’s nightstand. When she opened the first drawer there it was, an old iPhone. She turned it on. 5:23.
Izzy sighed again. She could lie back down and stare at the ceiling or she could make breakfast. If she were home Spade would be waking her up around now.
Izzy mixed, buttered, fried with the baking supplies Jack had. She found a jar of raspberry jam and a half pack of sausages. She made biscuits with the sausages and coffee for them both. When it was done she brought the plate to Jack.
“Wake up,” Izzy said. She set the plate on the nightstand so she could shove at Jack’s shoulder. “Food.”
“Hmm?” Jack yawned and blinked awake. “Oh, shit.” She scooted up and took the plate of food. “Fuck, Iz, this looks amazing.” She started eating voraciously.
Izzy balanced her own plate on her lap and put her cup of coffee on the nightstand.
“What got you up so early?” Jack asked with her mouth full.
“My leg was hurting. Sometimes it wakes me up.”
“That sucks.” Jack ate more of her biscuit and moaned. “This is the best breakfast I’ve had in a while. Thanks, darlin’. Do you usually eat this nice on Sundays?”
“Oh.” Right, it was Sunday.
“Hey, we don’t have to go to church,” Jack said. “Spend the day with me.”
“I don’t know.” Izzy set her plate down and flopped back over Jack’s legs.
Jack nudged her leg up. “You said your leg was hurting you. That’s reason enough.”
And all that shit with Ricky. “Yeah,” Izzy said finally. “I’m not going.”
“Awesome.” Jack patted the empty side of the bed. “Come lay down again.”
Izzy removed her leg and crawled back under the covers.
Jack rolled over onto her side to face Izzy. She reached up to cup her face. “I always thought you were so pretty, you know that?”
Izzy smiled. “Always? What do you mean? When we were kids?”
“Yeah.” Jack brushed her thumb over Izzy’s cheekbone.
“You thought everything that breathed was pretty.”
“I liked Eddie, too, if that’s what you mean. But I always wondered about you. I always hoped you were doing alright and that you were happy.” Jack chuckled humorlessly just to fill the space. “I know I wasn’t shit for a while. I made some fucked up choices.”
“We all do,” Izzy whispered. “But you’re here now. With me.”
A smile crashed onto Jack’s face and she planted a quick kiss on Izzy’s lips. “Yeah. You and me, old and gray, but we did it. Shit, I’m so lucky to have you.” Jack pulled her in closer so Izzy’s face tucked into the curve of her neck. She let Jack hold her for a while, and it was so soothing to her insides. Like they were both healing a little for every minute they clung to each other.
Some time later Izzy tapped Jack. “I have to get home,” Izzy said.
“Hmm? Why?” Jack stretched out and grunted.
“It’s laundry day.” Izzy threw back the covers and a shiver ran down her spine from the cold. She stretched towards the nightstand for her liner. “Do you even do yours?”
“Yeah,” Jack scoffed. “Not the old way. I just go to the laundry in town.”
“You’re so weird,” Izzy said. “You still drive your buggy and work carpentry, but you draw the line at laundry.”
Jack shrugged and darted out of bed and for the door. “At least let’s have coffee before I take you home.”
“Sure.” Izzy followed Jack into the kitchen. It was messy, but functionally the same as her own. She grabbed the kettle while Jack kneels down to light the fire in the belly of the stove. “I don’t make many clothes dirty on my own. If you want,” Izzy started. This was probably a mistake. But all she knew was taking care of people. “You can send some of your clothes with me.”
“Shit, really?” Jack shook her hand to blow out the match with a look of awe on her face. “Hell yeah, I will. If you’re offerin’.” She stood stock straight. “Wait here.” She disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a small pile of clothes. “And hey, if you keep a dirty shirt of mine with you, I won’t say nothin.”
Izzy heated slightly at the idea, but kept her face carefully blank. “I don’t know what you’re yapping about.”
Izzy stopped Jack before they walked into the old community center. “Your hair is a mess,” she said. Jack held her hat in her hands contritely while Izzy smoothed it down. “You reflect on me when we walk in together,” Izzy said.
Inside, the band was still setting up. Izzy led Jack around towards Mary.
“Izzy!” Mary set down Louis so he could pull Izzy into a hug. “I’m glad you came.”
“The last one wasn’t bad,” Izzy said. “I know they’re put on once a month, so.”
“Hey,” Mary said. “Speaking of, I’m putting together a weekly get-together type of meeting. Not exclusively for widows, but mostly. I’d love it if you’d come.”
Izzy looked half-away. “I don’t know. Will it be Bible reading?”
“No, it won’t be,” Mary promised. “Just talking. And some nice food, maybe some games.”
“When are you thinking?”
“How about Thursday evenings? I’ll set it in stone, just for you.”
“Alright. I’ll do it,” Izzy said.
Jack closed the space between them and tucked her chin onto Izzy’s shoulder. “Should I be jealous?” she asked into Izzy’s ear.
Izzy snorted. “Hardly. He’s with Doug.”
“Oh, yeah. Those crazy kids.” Jack circled around Izzy to offer a hand. The band’s warmup faded into something mellow and sweet. “Join me?” Jack asked.
Izzy took her hand and felt a jolt of excitement in her chest like she was a teenager again. “Am I spoken for?” Izzy asked. She meant it jokingly, but Jack only absorbed it with a goofy look on her face.
“Yeah. I’d say so,” Jack said. “If that’s cool with you.”
Izzy heard the knock at the door and didn’t bother standing. “Let yourself in,” she shouted.
“Hello, my Izzy,” Jack called. “My sweet lady. Best pair of tits in the county.” She appeared in the door of Izzy’s sewing room. “What’s this?”
“You’re done with the compliments already?” Izzy paused with her hand stitching and perched her glasses on her head. “I’m just finishing the edges of this quilt.”
Jack nodded. “It’s nice. Was it a commission?”
“No.” Izzy picked her needle up again to continue. “I’m nearly done.”
“Got it.” Jack sat down on the only other chair in the room. It was a spare that Izzy rested her legs on sometimes. “How long you been working on this one?”
“A couple weeks.” Izzy slid her glasses back onto her nose. She was so close. She tuned out Jack’s presence for a moment to try and rush the last set of stitches without losing quality. Finally, her needle came through for the final time and she released the air in her lungs. “Done.”
She snipped the thread with her scissors and laid her needle down. Izzy smoothed the quilt out to look at it. “It’s for you.”
“What?” Jack crossed the room to look at it. “For me? It’s not my birthday.”
“I had fabrics I thought you’d like.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jack said as she inspected each square. “Look at that. Shit, this is incredible, Izzy.” Jack ran her fingers over the blanket delicately. “Can I see how it looks on the bed?”
“You will not get this dirty,” Izzy threatened.
“I’ll lay a towel down over it,” Jack said. She practically sprinted to Izzy’s bedroom to fluff the quilt over the bed. “It’s gorgeous, Iz.” As soon as Izzy joined her, Jack threw her arm around Izzy’s shoulder. “Look at that one of the squares has a chicken just like Winona.”
Izzy turned slightly to lay her head against Jack’s chest and she wrapped her arms around Jack’s waist. Her glasses were knocked and they fell askew. Izzy didn’t say anything in return, but she was pleased Jack liked her work.
“Wanna bang respectfully next to the quilt you made me?” Jack asked.
“Sure. Yeah.”
Izzy took Jack’s cunt into bit. Jack went taut and groaned through clenched teeth. “Fuck, baby. Shit.”
Izzy released and licked over the mark. She circled her tongue up to Jack’s clit and then back to the other lip of her labia. She bit that, not hard, but enough to pinch and be sore and present. Jack’s squeaks and pants were the perfect sound.
“I’m in your teeth now,” Jack said. “You flossin’ down there?”
“Don’t be gross,” Izzy chided. She continued eating Jack with easy slurps and licks. This wasn’t rushed, but it was deep and it was all-consuming. She wanted Jack open and raw when she was done. She wanted Jack begging for more.
Izzy sucked Jack’s clit into her mouth and licked up, up through her bush and into the vee of her hips.
“You’re gonna kill me,” Jack said deliriously. “This was the worst edging I’ve ever felt.”
“When you’re done,” Izzy said. “When you’ve come as many times as you want and you can barely keep your eyes open I’m going to strap that harness to you and ride you, Jack.”
“Yes, please.” Jack reached down and Izzy took hold of her hand. “You could kill me and I’d say thank you.”
Izzy used her fingers to part Jack’s cunt and expose her clit to the air. She spat on it and then sucked it into her mouth. Jack nearly thrashed with the stimulation as it pushed her into orgasm like a rocket shot.
Izzy strapped Jack into the harness and stroked her hand over the cock. “Just keep still, alright?” Izzy sat down slowly and groaned. “Yes.”
She worked her hips in circles to chase her orgasm. She was already on edge seeing Jack so fucked out under her hand. But, of course, Jack couldn’t stand to stay still. Jack jerked her hips up and grabbed Izzy to pull her down to meet each thrust. Izzy’s breasts bounced with every movement and Jack looked up at her like she’d hung the stars.
“That’s it, baby,” Jack said. “Come for me.”
Izzy rubbed her own clit quickly. “Will you slap me?” she asked. She hadn’t meant to ask, but it would get her there she knew it would. Jack slapped her thigh enough to sting. Then she slapped Izzy’s left tit and then she backhanded her across the face. “Yes,” Izzy sobbed. “Yes, Jack.”
Izzy parked her truck on Jack’s lawn. She walked inside without knocking, but didn’t see Jack. “What is she doing?” Izzy mumbled. “Jack?”
She walked to the back door and peered out the window. There Jack was, half-inside her chicken coop with a basket in hand. Izzy opened up the door enough to call out. “Jack, I’m here. Hurry inside.”
Jack looked up and a grin spread over her features. “Coming.” She placed the egg in her hand into the basket and jogged towards Izzy eagerly. “I didn’t know if I just imagined hearing your truck engine cause I wanted to see you so bad.” Jack kissed her quickly and they both retreated into the warmth of the house. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
Izzy had wanted to see her. She’d been sitting on her couch feeling lonely and longing to have Jack hold her. Now that she was here she couldn’t say that. “I thought I’d bake for you,” she blurted out.
“Okay. Good thing I got these eggs.”
“Do you want apple pie?” Izzy asked.
“Yes,” Jack said. She slapped her hands together. “Whew, you’re gonna get me all worked up. Kneading that dough, sweat on your brow.”
“I can’t help that you’re horny beyond repair,” Izzy said dryly. She started assembling her dry ingredients. She peeled and sliced apples and laid them in a pan to cook. “That reminds me. I’m nearly out of butter at home. I don’t make my own. I have a guy,” Izzy said.
“A butter girl, I heard,” Jack said. Her face darkened slightly. “You know I make butter, too,” Jack said. “I learned how to, same as everyone else.”
“Okay?” Izzy raised a brow.
“I just mean you could save on that. No need for a butter fund cause I got you, babe.” Jack jammed her hands in her pockets. “I promise I’m good at it.”
“Jack,” Izzy said. A slow smile spread over her face. “There is nothing between me and Steak Knife.”
“What kind of nickname is that, anyway?” Jack pouted.
“You’re right. It’s no Calico.” Izzy grabbed hold of Jack’s arm. “If you want to make butter for us I won’t say no.”
“Yeah?” Jack pulled at Izzy as she circled the table and dragged Izzy into her lap. She pressed a sloppy kiss to Izzy’s cheek. “You know I always thought it was a lot like jackin’ it and I’m so good at that.”
“You always make it gross,” Izzy bemoaned. She lightly shoved her hand into Jack’s face. “Let me stir the apples before they stick and burn.”
Izzy took the pan off the heat. She wrapped the dough and placed it in the fridge. “We have some time now.”
“I wanted to try something,” Jack said. She reached out her hand for Izzy to take it. “I know we already fucked and everything.” Jack shyly led Izzy to the bedroom. “But, we never bundled.”
“Really? You want to do that?” Izzy was surprised. She supposed she thought of it as something young people did, but technically it was a premarital thing too.
“I just always thought that was something I’d get to do. With you, if I was lucky.”
“Jack,” Izzy squeaked. She cleared her throat. “Lay down then.” They laid down on the bed, fully clothed. They didn’t touch. “Talk to me, then, husband.”
“Don’t,” Jack breathed. “I think I like you saying that way too much.”
“You can call me your wife,” Izzy said softly. “Unless, you weren’t planning on–“ Izzy cut herself off. Her stomach soured as she stared at the ceiling. Was this not serious?
“No, no, I want to, Iz. Let me make an honest woman out of you,” Jack said with a smile in her voice. “How long do we have until the dough is ready?”
“There’s time still,” Izzy said.
“I don’t know if anyone ever did this,” Izzy said. “But if you want it. I’ll do it.” She hated herself for agreeing to it, but clearly the idea made Jack unbearably hot.
Jack laid her out on the bed as if she were made of glass. She drew the sheet up until the hole was in place. Despite Izzy acting reluctant to the idea, now that they were here she was strangely excited. Her cunt grew slick and warm with anticipation.
“Is this okay?” Jack asked. It wasn’t exactly Jack that was asking. It was The Dutiful Husband asking.
“Yeah,” Izzy said. She imagined some kind of life where she married Jack young and they were both a little more straight edge. She allowed her breath to hitch when she said, “I’m ready.”
Jack’s eyes widened slightly and she lined her silicone cock up with the hole in the sheet and then Izzy’s cunt. When she pressed in, the stretch was a little uncomfortable but not painful. Izzy freed her arms from the sheets to hold Jack’s shoulders. “God willing you have a baby,” Jack murmured. “I hope they’re a spitting image of you.”
“You have to give me your seed first,” Izzy said. “Fill me with it. Maybe we should go more than once, just to be sure.” She could see the fantasy taking hold as Jack pumped her hips.
“I’m sure the lord will bless us,” Jack panted. The bed squeaked with every thrust. “You’ll grow round with my kid and everyone who doubted us’ll see you knocked up and know you’re mine.” Jack reached to grab Izzy’s breast, but Izzy stopped her.
“Don’t let your thoughts stray,” Izzy said. Even though she wanted Jack to touch her. The crazed look Jack got when denied only made Izzy wetter.
Jack whined and rested her forehead against Izzy’s clavicle. The sex was almost masturbatory. As if Izzy had attached herself to some fucking machine. She rutted with an almost blind determination. Izzy fisted her hand into Jack’s hair. “That’s my husband,” she whispered. “Keep going. Fill my womb and don’t dare spill a drop. If you do, we'll start again.”
“I love you, baby. Gonna put a baby in you. Have my jizz leaking out of your hole, completely stuffed.” Jack’s hips stuttered out as if she came. Had she? Jack collapsed onto Izzy and squeezed her tightly.
“That was really fucking hot,” Jack said. “I dunno if I need to do it again, but I sure got my rocks off in my head.”
“It was alright.”
“You need to finish, hmm?” Jack rolled to the side. “Bring that pretty pussy up to my face and I’ll eat the baby gravy out.”
“Disgusting.” Izzy got out from under the sheet and swung herself over Jack the opposite way. It was hard to kneel over Jack’s face, so instead Izzy draped herself over Jack’s body and rested her head on Jack’s hip.
Jack licked her out with reverence. She kissed her inner thighs and curled her tongue around Izzy’s clit.
Izzy skated her fingers over Jack’s leg and dipped down to rub Jack’s slick pussy beneath the cock. Maybe Jack had gotten off while fucking her. Izzy pinched her clit and Jack moaned. The vibration sang through Izzy’s cunt. She was so close. She was on the cusp of coming. “Jack, more, right now,” Izzy commanded. Her hips naturally rocked against Jack’s face searching for more friction. “Husband, please,” Izzy whimpered, just to get a rise out of Jack.
Jack groaned and Izzy’s cunt caught her nose just so. The feeling pushed Izzy over the edge. She tensed and held Jack tightly. “Oh,” Izzy sighed.
Jack pulled back and gasped for air. “You almost suffocated me,” she said dreamily. “Death by muff might be the best way to go.”
Izzy’s shoulder bumped against Jack’s as the buggy jostled down the road. The mud and the cold were terrible by now in Mid-November. Izzy was grateful to see the steeple come into view.
Once the horses stopped, Jack hopped down and offered Izzy a hand. She unhooked the horses and stabled them while Izzy watched from the sidelines. Jack had a way with horses; she was real gentle with them. Something in Izzy’s heart sang to watch Jack pet them and whisper encouraging words.
When they finally got inside the church Izzy welcomed the warm air. “It’s colder than a witch’s you know what,” Jack murmured. As they reached the aisle, Izzy realized she wasn’t sure where to sit. They weren’t single.
“This way,” Jack said. She directed Izzy into one of the pews for families and married couples.
“I haven’t changed my bonnet,” Izzy said.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jack said. “This is our declaration and I’m sure that’s good enough.” She reached out and laid her hand over top of Izzy’s. “You should tell your crew.”
“They’re not my crew.”
“Yeah they are.”
Izzy settled back against the hardwood and waited for the pastor to speak. She felt content in a different way than she had the last few months. Maybe she would decide church wasn’t for her, not anymore, but for now she liked this. She wasn’t thinking about who was watching her, except for Jack.