Once in Every Life

He looked at her as if she were a science experiment gone horribly awry. "And what would that be?"

She shrugged. "I guess we'll find out together. Won't it be fun?"

"Fun? Fun? You expect us to have fun?"

"You make it sound like I asked you to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge."

He backed away from her. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

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She winced. "Yeah, mentioning the bridge was a mistake. I think?"

He surged toward her and grabbed her. His strong fingers bit deep in the fleshy part of her arms. "Have all the goddamn fun you want, but don't drag me into it. Got it?"

Tess glared up at him. Enough was enough, damn it. In the past week she'd been hit by a bus, given birth, and died. She was trying to make the best of this life, but nothing?nothing?said she had to let this man yell at her.

She wrenched out of his arms. "It's about time to set some rules, Jack."

He drew back. "Huh?"

"Good comeback. Now, are you going to hit me?"

Surprise registered in his eyes. "Now?"

"Ever."

"I've never hit a woman."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you trying to be evasive?"

"No. Goddamn it, you know I'm not going to hit you."

She stepped closer, staring dead into his eyes. "Then

quit trying to scare me. It won't work. I'm doing my best

to help out this family, and damn it, I expect you to put

forth a little effort, too. Okay?"

He stared at her, too stunned to reply. "Okay?" she repeated.

His mouth opened?no doubt for a stinging retort?then snapped shut with a click of teeth. Anger crawled in a red wash up his throat. "I'm leaving."

He pivoted away from her and surged through the open door, slamming it shut behind him.

Tess sighed and crossed her arms, staring hard at the closed door. That hadn't gone too well.

Suddenly this lifetime stretched out before her like an endless, waterless desert. If she didn't do something, she'd

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spend sixty years fighting with Jack. Just the thought was enough to make a calm, levelheaded scientist go mad. She should have picked the spaceman.

Katie stared up the hill at the schoolhouse. The clapboard wooden structure sat alone amidst a stand of just-greening trees. Kids ran back and forth in front of the woodpile in a game of tag. High-pitched giggles peppered the air. A few horses?owned by families who could afford to let their kids ride to school?stood tied along the three-slatted wooden fence that bordered the yard.

Katie slowed down. Her fingers curled in a death grip on the wire handle of her lard tin. The cold metal bit into her sweaty palm.