Gin Palace 02 - The Bone Orchard

shoulder cap. I looked at that arm; there was no blood on it.
    “That’s a knife wound, isn’t it?” she said.
    I nodded.
    The only light in the room was what came in through the windows, from the moon and the broad sky of stars. The night must have been a clear one, the first in a week.
    “You were smart to come here, Mac.”
    “I can feel stitches.”
    “Gary sewed you up.”
    “Your husband?”
    “Yeah.”
    “He’s a veterinarian,” I said. “Right?”
    She nodded. “You took eleven stitches.”
    “Thank him for me.”
    “What’s going on, Mac?”
    She was dressed in jeans and a red flannel shirt over a blue turtleneck. I could see the veins in her long, athletic hands. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, one foot flat, the toe of the other touching the floor. Her legs, too looked long. She was leaning on one hip, her arms folded under her breasts. She looked concerned, even a little bit nervous. Out of her nurse’s scrubs she seemed somehow taller, or maybe that was because I was lying down.
    “I’m not sure yet, Gale.”
    “I thought you were out of this line of work.”
    “I never was in it.”
    “Well, you’re out of it for a while now. You’re not going anywhere. You need to rest.”
    “What time is it?”
    “It’s almost midnight.”
    “How long have I been out?”
    “You’ve been here since this morning. Don’t worry. Just try to rest.”
    I looked up at her. Neither of us said anything. In the silence I became aware of the house around us. It was completely still. I could feel my body sinking.
    “You can stay here as long as you want, Mac. I’ll take care of you. All right?”
    I nodded. “All right.”
    “Good. Now get some rest. If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”
    I nodded again and felt my eyes close as if at her command. I gave myself over to her, as I had done years before, at Southampton Hospital, when she kept me company on sleepless nights, when all I could do was lie there in bed and think of her and close my eyes and smell her when she had gone.
    I fell asleep now to the sound of my own breathing. When I awoke again before dawn the bedroom door was closed and Gale was asleep beside me on the bed. She was on top of the covers, an afghan over her. She was on her right side, facing me, her hand on my chest. Her left leg was bent and draped over my knee so that hers was between my legs. I wondered where her husband, the man whose life I wanted, was. I listened for sounds of him in the house but could only hear our breathing. I kept still and looked at her face. Our breathing was in sync, though her breaths were much deeper than mine. I remembered then the silver duck tape Eddie had wrapped around my ribs, but looking down, I saw that it had been replaced by neatly wound surgical tape.
    Gale’s head was resting on a pillow that lay just inches from mine. I could smell sleep on her breath, that mix of sweet and stale. Her mouth was closed, her lips parted only slightly. Her eyes were still beneath their lids. I felt such peace all around me, and within me. I could feel it move through my broken body like a hit of morphine.
    I didn’t fall back to sleep for a while. I lay there beside her with her body against mine and watched her as the room gradually filled with light. It wasn’t till daylight had come that I felt the need to sleep come over me. I closed my eyes and drifted off. I knew when I awoke this moment would be gone, but there was nothing I could do about that.
    ***

    We awoke together at a little before nine. It seemed to me that she had not moved at all as we slept. She was looking at me now, not just me at her, and we said good morning. Her hand was still on my chest and her knee was between my legs. The thought of kissing her crossed my mind but I knew better. She asked me how I felt and told her I was okay and that was close enough to the truth.
    Augie was still in trouble, and out there somewhere was the man who had killed Amy Curry. I couldn’t stay away from that even if by some miracle I could remain in Gale’s life, if I could sleep every night with her hand on my chest and her leg between mine.
    She helped me down the stairs, my right arm draped around her neck, her shoulder wedged against my torso. I felt utterly broken. She said I should have stayed in bed but I knew I needed to move and see what I could and couldn’t do. I needed to know how far I could go when the time came.
    Gale made a breakfast of eggs and toast, but all