Deb:  Feel better?

Bill:  What the hell you talkin’ about, girl?

Deb:  You wanted to beat the shit out of poor Sam...

That got a rise out of him.  I had thought it might.

Bill:  Poor Sam!  He’s the one got her...

Deb:  Give it a rest, Bill.  She’d’a looked at him sideways, he’d 
have married her.  No way he would have hurt her or let her be hurt.
 
Bill:  In my business...

Deb:  Stick your ‘business’ straight up your ass, Strannix.  You’ve got 
a pretty inflated opinion of yourself.

Bill sat up, looming in the dark.  The fury came off him in waves.

Bill:  I left that girl in his care and she’s dead.

Deb:  She was going to spend time with a dear friend of hers.  You 
might have been three cars behind and it would have worked out the 
same way.

Bill:  You don’t know that.

Deb:  And you do?  What difference does it make, she’s a crispy critter 
now.  You can talk all you want about how you’d have done it differently 
and she’d still be just as dead. Let it go.  You’re not the only man 
capable of providing more than adequate protection, I’ve got a houseful 
of ‘em.

Bill:  In your case...

Deb:  That doesn’t hurt a bit.  You’re the only man willing to try 
in my case, I know that.

Bill:  Maybe there’s a reason for that.

Deb:  Maybe there is and you can go to hell while you figure it out.  
I’m done with you.

I stalked out of the room without a backward glance.  At that moment, 
it felt like I was done.

There wasn’t a sound in the place save my footsteps.

The kitchen looked like one of Ryan’s more unstable playthings had 
gone off in it.  My computer desk had been shifted several feet to 
the left and it looked like the wall had taken a hit.  There were 
smashed dishes and pieces of broken furniture everywhere, along
with personal possessions that had fallen or been knocked out of 
masculine pockets. Looking down, I spotted a simple keychain with a 
polished, heartshaped stone on the ring.  Sam’s...I picked them up to 
put them aside.  Like most men, he had a shitload of keys.  I recognized 
the housekey, the carkey...and the key to the cabin.  For a moment I 
was lost in my own memories.  There was something I wanted to do with
the cabin key but I didn’t think it was entirely honest.  The place 
was Sam’s, after all...then desire won out over sense and I took the 
key.  He wouldn’t miss it for a while, if ever.

The dogs nearly bowled me over.  Keys...purse...obviously they were 
going for a ride.  Augustus wriggled in anticipation while Woodrow 
sat beside me, regarding me with more than normal tolerance.  At first 
I wasn’t going to take them.  I wasn’t even going to take the truck, 
since I wanted nothing of what Bill had bought for me.  But Strannix 
owed me a damn car and I didn’t want to go back into the house and risk 
running into him again. Given the fact that he had taken my Escort 
and handed it off to Gaerity and almost certain destruction, I figured 
the Expedition was a fair trade.  I chucked in my purse,loaded the 
dogs, and drove away.

I had never driven to the cabin myself, let alone in a rage, but I was 
damned if I would let it stop me.  My only mistake was in stopping to 
buy a sack of White Castle burgers for the dogs.  Augustus brought the 
same enthusiasm to breaking wind that he did to anything else he enjoyed.

The peeping sound of the telephone roused me somewhere north of Elk 
River.  Dammit! Bill insisted that I turn the phone on the minute I 
left the house and leave it on.  And he said I never did as I was 
told.  Finally I picked it up.  Augustus was pawing my hand and 
when Augustus pawed the hand, the hand knew it was being pawed.

Deb:  What?

Ryan:  Nice night for a drive, lass.

Deb:  Oh, shut up.

I hung up.  The phone peeped again.  Augustus started pawing 
while Woodrow merely covered his massive head with his massive paws 
and whimpered.

Deb:  What the fuck???

Ryan:  Darlin’, your FCC regulations specifically prohibit the use 
of the word ‘fuck’ overthe airwaves.

Deb:  Go to hell, Gaerity.  What the hell do you know about FCC 
regulations, you freak, what do you want?

Ryan:  I wanted to warn ye to leave the phone off.  Wee Mr. Pitt will 
be here shortly.

Deb:  He’s not wasting any time, is he?

Ryan:  It’s not his nature to waste time.  Be careful.

Without another word, Ryan was gone.

The first couple of days I was at the cabin I did nothing but clean. 
Not being the biggest fan of housework, I knew the manic maintenance 
was my way of avoiding thought.

She had left a good deal of personal things in the cabin. I set aside 
some of the smallest for Sam and Elmore to share between them, then 
boxed up the clothes and took them into town to donate. While I was 
there I stocked up on groceries and books, since I only planned to 
leave the island if dynamited off it. It occurred to me that Bill 
would only need to look at the credit card statements to know exactly 
where I was, but he'd had me paying all his bills before and I gambled 
on the idea that he would have Jade do it as a way to keep her busy.

The dogs loved the island. They chased things, hunted other things, 
rolled in still more things if they found them and they were dead 
enough. Still, they were perfect company.  They left me alone for 
the most part, but they were great fun to watch as long as I stayed 
upwind.

Two weeks went by in this fashion. I was starting to feel homesick, 
and I fought it daily. I wanted to go home and see how Elmore and Sam 
were doing. I wanted to talk to Jade. I wanted to pick on Ryan. And, 
dammit all, I wanted Bill. I had made my peace with my loss and knew 
that it would be a long time before I remembered I couldn't call her 
the minute Bill engaged in some sort of creative fuckery. I accepted 
that, and since my own grief was manageable I could look at helping 
Bill deal with his.

I went into my purse one morning thinking that I would call Ryan, 
give the signal and test the waters down at Ice Station Strannix. 
Horrified, I found that the telephone charge was on its last legs 
and the digital screen indicated that the phone had been attempting 
to dial a disconnected number for most of the last six hours. Mr. 
Pitt had me cold and Bill was probably well on his way, if nothing 
else to tell me to go to hell to my face.

Eventually, as I had known he would, Bill arrived and the dogs exploded 
off the bed, flinging themselves down the stairs of the little A-frame, 
barking madly. Woodrow was especially eager, Augustus just his usual
garrolous self.  I heard the bootheels clocking their way across the 
floor and I envied the dog his excitement.  I was scared to death.

He mounted the stairs, two at a time, looming up over the landing and 
then filling the room. Woodrow sat beside him and stared adoringly up 
at him.

Bill: Ya think ya can hide forever?

Deb: Not unless I kill Mr. Pitt.

Bill: He's good for somethin'.

Deb: So, what do you want?

Bill sat beside me and laid a huge hand on my belly, but it was 
his gaze he used to pin me.

Bill: You.

Something about the tone and inflection told me that Annapolis was 
in the house.

Bill: I told you a long time ago what would happen to me if you left me.
I wasn't kidding. Come home.

Deb: You won't die. I wanted to believe you, but everything I've seen 
tells me you'd be happier free of me.

Bill: Don't believe everything you see, girl. Come home.

Deb: Bill...

My front was a shaky one and he muat have known it. He swung himself 
onto the wide mattress and crouched over me.

Deb: You know...you're a rock. In some ways, that's comforting and 
in others it's very frustrating.

Bill: You knew what I was.

Deb: Yes, I did. I know there are things you can't say. I know there 
are things you won't say. I don't expect you to change. I don't think 
I want you to. I only wish..you might warn me once in a while, when 
you're upset. At least then I know what to expect, as well as what
not to expect

Bill's face worked strangely.

Bill: I...don't...know if that's possible.

Deb: I know you feel things, for as much as you refuse to acknowledge 
that. And I know that she was the one who said you'd never crack. And 
she was the one who cracked you.

Bill's momentary uncertainty ended as quickly as it had started. 
So did Annapolis' tenure in the house. His eyes were piercing as 
they locked on mine and, instead of intimidating me, they only upset 
me further. I said nothing, for the longest time, and finally he climbed 
off the bed and let himself out. I thought that was it, that it was 
over. It had been much simpler than I had thought it could be. I should 
have known better. Nothing with Bill was simple.

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