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Phyl reached up and pulled down the green shoe box from the shelf at the top of the tiny closet, crammed - even with their modest wardrobes - with both their clothes, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She loved their cozy, blue-gray cottage on the hill above Lake Saint Catherine, with its white trim, and wood balcony, and the gorgeous view of the lake. If they needed to add on later, there was always room on the side of the house nearest the woods. Who could know what their future together might hold. She set the box on the bed and rummaged through it, finding their passports, opening each one and holding the small black booklets together, their photos side by side - Thaddeus William Gallagher, DOB - January 16, 1942, and Phyllis Xaria Alexander, DOB - September 23, 1952 - reminding herself to take her proof of marriage and name change with them to the airport. She smiled at the photo of Thad, who looked very rugged and handsome, with his short hair and light beard laced with white and silver, and his gorgeous dark eyes, a slightly self-conscious smile on his lips, and she sighed. She'd discovered during their time together that this quiet man was not one to lightly toss out 'I love you" here and there, as some men might. On the contrary, she was reminded every minute of every day of his deep love for her by his thoughtfulness, his respect for her, and his obvious desire and need for her.
Phyl smiled as she looked at the photos. She had discovered that he'd had a wicked sense of humor as well, remembering one dinner party at Pete and Emma's the April before, where they'd stayed after all the other guests had left. The two couples had sat out on the deck in the cool night air, sipping wine, and telling humorous stories of their respective university experiences. She, Pete, and Emma had tried in vain to hold back tears as Thad, in his calm, deep voice, recalled a particularly raunchy prank he'd helped pull off during his fraternity days. Later, after they'd hugged good bye at the front door, Emma leaned back, her hands on Phyl's shoulders, tilting her head, her blue eyes sparkling.
"I do believe, Phyl, that it was glorious fate that brought you here to Lake Saint Catherine." Emma smiled and slanted her eyes over at Thad, who was chuckling with Pete over something as they shook hands. "I really do."
Phyl smiled, and as she gazed at the passports, the memories of their honeymoon in the south of Italy, on Tropea Beach in Calabria sprang into her mind, knowing they would stay in her heart forever. She took a long breath and exhaled. That week, on the gulf of St. Eupenia, had been the most exquisite seven days of her life, with she and Thad focusing only on each other. Their inn was rustic and romantic, with trellises filled to overflowing with colorful flowers, a gorgeous view of the gulf, a room with a big bed and gauzy curtains, and a private patio. When Thad had whispered seductively to her the week before the wedding that he was looking forward to being alone with her on a secluded beach, he had meant it, she smiled to herself. With the hot sun, sand, and sparkling blue gulf during the day, and sultry breezes, and starlit skies at night, they had taken advantage of every possible opportunity to express their love for each other. She had never known such joyful passion, at times, quiet and tender, and other times, rapturously unbridled. She smiled softly to herself as one particular night came to mind. She heard Thad's footsteps behind her.
"Hmm...mm." She could tell that he was smiling as he wrapped his arms around her, spying the passports in her hands. "I'll bet, my love, that I can guess what you are thinking right this very moment." His voice was deep as he leaned down and kissed her neck, and she softly laid the passports on the bed. She felt his warm hand glide beneath her sweater and run along her waist, and she leaned her head back on his chest, raising one hand up to rest on his neck. She tilted her face up toward him as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly. "Calabria? That night on the beach. Am I right?" His breath was warm as he nuzzled her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She raised her eyebrows and smiled. After a moment, she lowered her hand, and slid around to face him, her lids already heavy, and she lifted both hands up to his strong, broad shoulders, as his warm hands glided across her back. How had she ever been fearful of looking into his beautiful eyes, she wondered, smiling, as she lost herself in his gaze that was filled with love for her. She felt him scoop her up, and he laid her on the bed. She rested her head on the pillow as she watched him join her, and she reached for him, smiling, and through her lashes, saw his face descend to hers. She could pack in the morning.
A Pale Paradise Page 6