by Robyn Carr
Her hand closed around him and she sighed. “Oh, Alex,” she said approvingly. His response was a deep moan. He ran a line of kisses from her neck, over her chest, lightly sucking an erect nipple, down over her flat belly, pausing only briefly before moving over the soft mound to lick, not gently, her moist insides. She rose against his mouth. “Oh, Alex!” she cried softly.
Her hand tightening around him, he was a doomed man. And she was drowning him, so there appeared no reason to wait. Rising again, she must have had the very same thoughts, for she gently guided him into her. He pressed in slowly, as slowly as he was able, and her legs instantly wrapped around him to keep him there. They rocked, and rocking quickly became a bucking. He pulled upward, grabbing her buttocks in both hands so the friction would bring her quick results, locking his mouth over hers. As her tongue entered his mouth, he sucked it gently. In a spasm, he felt her insides grab him, vibrate around him, torture him at length. She held her breath, held his shoulders, and he pumped. And let himself go.
They fell onto the sheets in relief but couldn’t let go of each other. “Oh, my,” she said breathlessly.
He touched her back, her arm, her lower spine, her breast. He took a moment to catch his breath, then said, “Now that that’s behind us, we can take our time.”
“Oh, my,” she said again.
“Then you approve?” he asked.
She answered with her lips. Even though they were spent, they lay kissing and touching, entwined, toes caressing toes, knees knocking knees, until within her Alex began to grow anew. This time, though passion stirred as hot, the urgency would not hinder them. This time would be for the sheer pleasure of waiting and enjoying. He turned her on her belly, pulled her on his lap, rolled over and let her be on top. Still, in the pulsing end she proved her vocabulary was limited. “Oh, my,” she said.
He braced an elbow on the bed and looked down at her. “Jennifer, I’m in love with you. I’m sorry for the way I behaved earlier.”
“Let it go, Alex. I have.”
“There’s still a lot we have to learn about each other, about where we came from and who we are, but I give you my word, I will never raise my voice to you in anger again. Never.”
She put a palm against his cheek. “I love you, too, Alex. And what you have offered me is more than I could ever have imagined.”
He grinned devilishly. “It appeared you were nicely satisfied.”
“Very nicely,” she said, smiling back.
“Did I forget anything?” he asked, giving her butt a squeeze.
“Well, we might have considered a condom.”
He was frozen. Speechless. Hopeful idiot that he was, he’d even had one in his pants pocket—not that one would have gotten them through the night.
“Rats,” he finally said.
* * *
Deep in the night, Alice began to howl. It was a deep and mournful sound. Jennifer bolted out of bed, not even entirely sure it was Alice—she’d never heard a sound like that before. She grabbed the chenille robe and raced to her, leaving Alex to fumble for his pants in the darkness.
She found Alice sitting up in the arch of the French doors that led to the porch, her snout raised as she howled. The sky was dark, but the rain had stopped. When Jennifer reached her, she gave a final howl, a couple of barks, then lay down on the floor with her snout between her paws.
Jennifer dropped beside her. “What is it?” she asked the dog.
Alice merely gave a whimper.
The lights were still off. “Prowler, maybe?” Alex suggested.
“Oh, Alex, what if Hedda came and we didn’t hear her?”
“I’ll check around,” he said.
“Be careful!” she ordered him. Then she turned her attention back to Alice, petting her.
She made Alice get up and walk around a little to be sure she wasn’t in some kind of terrible pain, and the dog seemed to be able to move around all right. But she wanted to lie in the doorway to the porch. Every so often she would emit a whimper. A little cry.
Jennifer curled herself around her and lay with her on the floor.
Alex came back to report there was no one around the house and the doors were all locked. “If anyone had knocked or rung the bell, I’d have heard,” he said. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“She’s still very upset, but she doesn’t seem to be in pain. She can move around all right.”
He looked down at the two of them on the floor, then sighed in resignation. He went to the bedroom, retrieved pillows and blankets, and cozied up with them on the floor. And that was how they spent the night.
* * *
“Doris, I can’t seem to find anything wrong with Alice,” Sam said.
“She whined all night,” Jennifer explained to the vet. “This morning she wouldn’t eat and all she does is lie with her nose pointed at the porch. Louise’s office. Sam, that’s a new spot for her. She usually likes it by the hearth where the uncarpeted floor is nice and cool.”
“Maybe she’s just missing Louise. I’ll do a blood draw to check a few things, and give her a vitamin supplement. But this might just be old age taking its toll.”
“I can’t let anything happen to her!”
“Doris, there are some things we just can’t control. Louise and I have talked about this. She and Alice are both ready, when the time comes.”
“Well I’m not!”
“See if you can get her to take a walk around the park. I’ll call you with the test results later.”
“Okay. Come on, girlfriend.”
But Alice wasn’t interested in the park. She’d take a few steps and lie down. Jennifer didn’t want to tug on her too hard, but it took quite a bit of coaxing to get her to take even a few more steps. In resignation she decided she’d better speak to Buzz and take the rest of the morning off. Tugging and coaxing and pleading, she got Alice pointed in the direction of the diner, and then suddenly the dog perked up and took off, pulling at the lead.
When they got to the diner, Alice became animated. She was usually content to lie outside in the shade, but today she whimpered at the door and wanted to go in. Jennifer looked around, saw that there were only a couple of people, friends of Alice’s, so she let her come inside. But that wasn’t enough—Alice pulled the lead right out of Jennifer’s hand and began sniffing all over the diner, from the front door to the back. She went from booth to booth, table to table, then tried to get behind the counter. Jennifer had never seen her so excited.
“Buzz,” Jennifer said, “I’m going to have to take the morning off. Something’s wrong with Alice.”
Buzz leaned over the counter. Alice was panting, her tongue hanging out and her eyes bright and sparkling. “She looks pretty good to me.”
“She’s acting very strange. She was up last night howling, barking, whining. This morning I could hardly get her to cross the park to Doc Gunterson’s—and then I couldn’t drag her back, but the minute the diner came into view, she bolted over here. Look at her—she’s all wound up. Think she’s looking for Louise?”
Buzz went to the dog biscuit jar and pulled out a nice big one for Alice. He offered it to her and she flopped down on her belly, snout flat to the floor.
“That would be a ‘no thank you.’”
“No kidding. Okay, I can cover you. Let me know how she is.”
“Sure.”
“And about that other thing. The guys who came for you yesterday? If you don’t want me to ask...”
“I’ll tell you all about it once it gets straightened out. Okay? Right now I have to concentrate on my girl here.”
“Just so you know—if you need anything.”
That was the thing about Buzz, about most of them—offering help even though he couldn’t be sure that Jennifer was a law-abiding person. And it was from
the heart. Buzz trusted his instincts, and his instincts told him she was okay, and he went with that. She wondered how often he got burned.
“Thanks,” she said. “Come on, old girl. Let’s go home.”
Going home took a while; Alice’s heart just wasn’t in it. By the time they made it home and she took up her place on the floor facing the porch, half the morning was gone. Jennifer called Rose to tell her what was going on, just to keep her in the loop. Five minutes later, Rose was at the door. She had something draped over her arm.
“You have tennis shoes, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You can’t do anything right now. Alice is just going to lie there. Come to aerobics with me.” She held out an exercise ensemble.
“Oh. I don’t think so,” she said, backing away. “I took the morning off to be with Alice.”
“What are you going to do? Sit here and stare at her? Come with me.”
“I don’t know,” she said. But she wanted to. She missed her workouts, her gym.
“Don’t be shy, Doris. You can keep up with a few little old ladies, can’t you?”
“I’m not sure I can,” she said. But her hands were reaching for the clothes. And a slow smile was beginning to appear on Rose’s face. “How long is the class?”
“Just an hour. It looks like all Alice is going to do is lie there and wait.”
“I just feel so sorry for her.”
Rose went to Alice, crouched and gave her a pat. “I know. But remember, she’s a bit melodramatic. She always puts on a show when Louise leaves.”
“This is a little worse,” she said. “But you’re right, I can’t do anything. And I don’t think she’s in danger.” Jennifer held up the shorts and tank top. And smiled. “Sure, I’ll go with you.”
Jennifer had to laugh at the way they drove in Rose’s convertible, top down, to the little dance studio a few blocks away. Everything in this town was just a few blocks away! “You’ll thank me for the ride home when the class is over,” she said.
One thing that Jennifer hadn’t counted on—Rose was a liar. There were not a few little old ladies in this class, even if it sometimes seemed to be a town full of them. Rose was far and away the oldest one there, and one of the most fit. A couple of the trim young mothers who jogged in the park and then went to the diner for sticky sweet bear claws and coffee were there, stretching out, and when they saw Jennifer they called to her and waved.
The instructor, a woman in her thirties and hard as a rock, was clapping her hands. “Come on, girls! Stretch out and get your steps! I see we have a newcomer. Stay up here close to me so I can help you with the steps if you need me. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”
“Oh-oh,” Jennifer said. “I have a feeling this is going to hurt.”
“It’ll hurt good,” Rose said, grinning.
And before she knew it, the music was on and they were away. They started off slow, but the pace picked up instantly. There wasn’t a single step she didn’t know, even if the routine was slightly different. Jennifer had been doing aerobics for years and she caught on quickly. Plus, it was true what she said—she was a good follower. Too good, it had become clear. It was time to stop following and begin making her own life.
It felt good to move her body, to jump around, to skip and hop and sweat. She clapped her hands with the group and even let out the occasional whoop. She looked around the room when she could manage—there were about twenty women ranging in age from twenty-five to Rose’s seventy. There were only a couple of women around sixty or more, and they moved a lot more slowly and cautiously than Rose.
Rose was obviously still a dancer. She was agile, strong and very coordinated. She had great rhythm and style, and abounded with energy. Luckily for her she didn’t suffer any of the debilitating conditions some women her age had to endure. Rose was flying through the class, barely breaking a sweat.
Time flew by and before she knew it, they were done. The young women she knew from the diner rushed over to her. “Doris, you’re great!”
“This is nothing new for you—you didn’t have any trouble keeping up!”
“Does this mean you’re going to come regularly?”
“I don’t know if I can. But this was fun, thanks.”
“All right, ladies, enough chatter. Get a mat and let’s stretch out!”
The tempo of the music calmed as they went through the motions of stretching and doing some floor exercises. It was during this phase that Jennifer’s mind wandered to last night and her most amazing lovemaking with Alex. He was completely there for her, putting her needs and desires ahead of his own. His touch was thrilling, his technique creative and satisfying, his character loving. She had never felt like this before.
And he was there with her when she woke up in the morning. He was there for her.
This was an entirely new experience. Even as a child, she had been conscious that the needs of someone else superceded her own. Although her mother loved her very much, she couldn’t really take care of her. Jennifer had to look out for Cherie.
“Now, doesn’t that feel better?” Rose asked her as they were leaving the class.
“Much,” she replied quietly. It was just beginning to occur to her that she could bring elements of her old life to her new. She didn’t have to choose between being an overpaid mistress or an underpaid waitress. She didn’t have to choose between being a caretaker or being taken care of. There was a vast and interesting area in between. “But I have a lot of things to straighten out,” she said.
“What?”
“Oh. Sorry, Rose. My mind was wandering. Listen, thanks so much. I’ll wash these things and get them back to you right away. After a quick shower, I’m going to write to Louise and tell her Alice is a little—I don’t know—under the weather.”
“Oh, phoo. Neurotic, that’s what she is,” Rose said.
Jennifer found that her roommate was the same—morose and without appetite. She sat on the floor beside her and tried to hand-feed her a morsel, but Alice wasn’t interested. She wrote a long email to Louise and mentioned Alice but didn’t want to alarm her. Jennifer promised that she was watching her closely.
It was the end of May; Jennifer had been in Boulder City for three months and her life was completely changed. She was dead in love with Alex and had no idea what to do next. She had never dared believe life had happy endings for girls like her—poor girls from disjointed and dysfunctional families. But before she could address that, she had to find a way to straighten out that mess in Florida.
Doc Gunterson called to say Alice’s blood work was fine, and aside from being a little overweight, she appeared to be in the best of health.
It was five o’clock when there was a knock at the door. With a lift in her chest, hoping it would be Alex home from work, she rushed to open it. But it was a man in a suit. With a briefcase. “Doris Bailey?”
She felt a jab of fear. “Yes?”
“My name is Wendell Phillips. I’m an associate with the Johnson McGee law firm. I’m afraid I have some bad news. Mrs. Louise Barstow passed away yesterday in her London flat. She was found by her charwoman.”
Jennifer’s hand went to her mouth and tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, she can’t be gone,” she said.
“The word I was given was that it was a peaceful departure. She was sitting in her favorite chair with a morning cup of tea and a newspaper. I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ve been asked to notify Mrs. Gillespie and Mr. Nichols, as well.”
“It’s Miss Gillespie. Rose has never married,” she said with a sniff. “Alex Nichols is not at home. He’s a Las Vegas police detective. Should I call him at work?”
“That would probably be best. And Miss Gillespie?”
“Let me go with you,” she said. “Oh, God, poor Rose. Louise was her very best frie
nd.”
Rose took the news stoically. She was relieved that Louise had slipped away painlessly, as though just going to sleep. “But I hate that she was so far away. I wish she’d been next door.”
“She left instructions to be cremated,” Mr. Phillips informed them. “What shall I tell them is to be done with the remains?”
“Oh, get a gaudy urn of some kind and ship her home,” Rose said with a flourish of one hand, turning away. Jennifer heard a sniff. “We’ll take care of her. We know what to do.”
“Let me get something for you, Rose. A cup of coffee or glass of wine?”
“Thanks, but if you wouldn’t be hurt...” She turned back and there was a little glistening in her eyes, and for the very first time since Jennifer had known Rose, she looked drawn. As though she’d aged suddenly. Her face, usually taut and smooth, seemed lined. Her eyes were very sad. “If you wouldn’t be terribly hurt, I’d like to be alone for just a bit.”
“Sure,” Jennifer said. “Of course. I’ll go home and call Alex.”
“Do. He’ll have a hard time with this. He adored Louise. Comfort him, and I’ll be along after a while.”
She wants to have a good cry, Jennifer thought. And she wants to do it alone.
“We have a little paperwork,” Mr. Phillips said. “But I believe everyone involved in Mrs. Barstow’s estate is clear on what she intended.”
“Yes,” Rose said. “There’s plenty of time for all that. I’ll be glad to call you.”
As they walked back to Louise’s house, Jennifer said, “Mr. Phillips, I’m simply house-sitting for Louise. I’m taking care of her dog. Is there something I should be doing? Should I turn Alice over to someone else and move out?”
“I’m sure there’s no hurry on that, Ms. Bailey. For the next couple of weeks, at any rate. Sit tight and I’ll be in touch.”
“Poor Alice. Mr. Phillips, she’s very, very old. She can’t change roommates too many times. She’s having a rough time right—” She suddenly stopped both talking and walking. Wendell Phillips paused and turned to look at her. “What time did you say Louise died?”