Yes, I Do

by Gwynne Forster

  “I d…don’t know,” she said, and when it seemed that her teeth chattered, he removed the armrest between them and pulled her into his arms. To his amazement, she needed no prompting, but snuggled up to him with her head against his chest and her right arm across his body. With each dip of the plane, her hand tightened on his body. He hurt for her.

  “It’s okay, Deanna. I know it’s rough, but I’ve been in much worse turbulence. The captain isn’t worried.”

  “This is your captain speaking. As soon as this turbulence eases up, we’ll serve. All drinks are on me this time, so don’t hesitate to calm your nerves with a few fingers of vodka or bourbon. We’ve got another 100 miles of turbulence, but the worst is behind us.”

  “I th…thought he was going to tell us the t…turbulence was over,” she said. “Aren’t you scared?”

  “I’m not in the mood to dance, but I’m not petrified, either. If you fly as often as I do, you get this from time to time, although this is a bit severe. To be honest, I’m rather happy.”

  “I’d l…like to know what the d..devil you’ve g…got to be h…happy about.”

  “I try to find the good in every situation. There is no way you’d be in my arms if this plane was flying smoothly.”

  “Well, I’m g…glad you’re happy.”

  “Come on. It’s not so bad. It just happened a little sooner than it would ordinarily have.”

  “A gentleman w…wouldn’t remind me.”

  About the time he realized that the turbulence had ceased, the captain announced that service would begin. “I’m going to drink all of the liquor on that cart,” she said.

  “Somehow, I doubt that.” He looked down at her snug in his arms and the plane flying as smoothly as an eagle. Damned if he’d call her attention to it.

  The stewardess interrupted his heaven. “What would you like, miss?”

  Still holding on to him, Deanna sat up. “Some strong black coffee. I don’t dare eat a thing.”

  “What about some fruit?” Justin asked her. He wondered why her hands suddenly held such interest for her. Then he realized that having enjoyed nearly an hour in his arms embarrassed her. Too bad, he said to himself, but I certainly am not complaining.

  You liked it here, you got used to it and you’ll be back for more.

  The limousine that he regularly reserved for special trips waited for him when they emerged from the luggage claim section. “I’ll drop you home,” he said, not giving her a chance to refuse.

  “Straight home, sir?” the driver asked him when they had seated themselves in the car.

  “Take Ms. Lawford home first. Give him your address, Deanna.” She did. “I could walk to your place,” he said when she gave an address on Mountain Lane. “I’m on Butler Street, a block from Pine Park.”

  She settled back into the soft leather seat. “Really? I walk in that park some Sunday mornings in midsummer.”

  “So do I. It’s strange that we never met there. At six o’clock on a June morning when the air is fresh, the wind is soft and the chirping of birds is the only audible sound…that’s balm for the soul.”

  She turned to see his face more fully. “Justin, you’re a romantic. We’ve never met in the park because you’re back in bed before I get out there. I wouldn’t run there alone when the rest of Woodmore is asleep.”

  “Suppose we run together?”

  “Okay, but wait till autumn. It’s too hot now.”

  The car pulled to a stop in front of her door. “Wait here, driver. I’ll see Ms. Lawford to her door. I’ll take it,” he said of Deanna’s luggage when the driver removed it from the trunk.

  “Thank you, Justin. You made the return trip home very comfortable and trouble-free. Sorry if I was poor company on the plane, but getting on a plane is a big deal for me, and the slightest irregularity sends me into a tizzy.”

  He held out his hand for her door key. “I’m sorry if you were ill at ease, but I enjoyed every second that I held you in my arms.” He dropped her bags on the floor inside the foyer. “It whetted my appetite, and I need more,” he said, easing his arms around her and gazing down into her face. He saw nothing negative in her soft brown eyes, only expectancy.

  “Kiss me. Put your arms around me and kiss me, sweetheart.” As the last word left his lips, he bent his head and she came up to meet him with lips parted to receive his tongue. Desire slammed into him, and tremors shook him as she sucked him into her. Closer. He pulled her closer, and her arms tightened around him. He broke the kiss and stared down at her. She licked her lips, and he went into her again, probing and searching, lapping up the sweetness in her. When he felt the craving for sex with her begin to arouse him, he set her away from him and let the wall take his weight.

  “Something’s happening with us, Deanna. Will you give me your home phone number and your cell number? I need to…will you let us see each other as often as possible? I mean, on a regular basis?”

  “I don’t know, Justin. I’d like for us to see each other, but in this town everybody knows when you change eyeglasses, and I have to think about my position at Burton’s.”

  “Burton’s needs you more than you need that store, but I respect your feelings about this. I hate not having things aboveboard. Sneaking around to be with you is not going to sit well with me. I want to see you, and I want everybody to know that I value you and your company. You’re not ashamed to be seen with me, are you?”

  Her soft gaze became a glare, “How did you fix your mouth to say that? You can’t be serious.”

  He hugged her. “No, it wasn’t a serious question. I asked that because I wanted to know where I stand with you.”

  She squinted at him. “And you think you know now?”

  “Well, one more kiss and I’ll know.”

  A grin spread over her face. “You’re a slick one. Kiss me. That driver must think we’re in here making out.”

  “That driver must know I’m a better man than that. I’ll call you tonight.” Her kiss, long and sweet, didn’t satisfy him, but his time would come.

  What was she thinking? “That’s the trouble,” she said aloud. “I wasn’t thinking. What woman could think when that guy opens his arms and parts his lips? Thank goodness I don’t have that much willpower.” But did she want to see him, to be with him on a regular basis? Stupid question! She’d wanted that from the moment she first saw him. But, with only two department stores in Woodmore, until she was able to strike out on her own, she needed that job at Burton’s.

  She didn’t feel like working, but she wanted to hand in her report Monday when she got to work. She didn’t have to do it on her first day back at the office after a field trip, as her boss called attendance at conventions and business conferences, but she wanted to complete the report while all was fresh in her mind. She decided not to include Justin’s talk.

  But that would be dishonest. His getting angry about her making notes during his lecture was not a reason to omit it in her report. She compromised by including a summary to the effect that McCall’s recommended furnishings emphasized comfort rather than design. After completing the report and printing it out, she considered cleaning her refrigerator, but listening to the music of Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, Duke Ellington and Billie Holiday seemed a much better idea and didn’t require the expenditure of much energy.

  Soon, the sound of Louis Armstrong’s “A Kiss To Build A Dream On” filled her living room. She turned it up higher, and was soon dancing, giving herself over to the music, back in New Orleans and back in Justin’s arms.

  She went to the kitchen for a glass of cranberry juice—her favorite drink—and heard the phone ringing. “Hello,” she said in a rather short fashion because she didn’t want to be disturbed.

  “Hello. This is Justin. I rang a dozen times. Where were you?”

  “Right here, but I’d turned the music up so loud that I couldn’t hear anything else.”

  “I hear it. Isn’t that Armstrong’s ‘Hello Dolly’?”
/>   “It is that. I was in the mood for some jazz.”

  “I’d ask if I could come over and listen with you, but you’ve been away from home for four days and you have to work tomorrow.”

  She laughed at the excuse he gave her. “That’s true, Justin. Tell me. What would you do if I said you’re right, but I’m not in the mood to be sensible?”

  “I’d be over there as fast as I could put on my shoes and get into my car. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No, it isn’t, but I wanted to know where you’re coming from.”

  “Make it easy, sweetheart. Ask me what you want to know. I’ll always give it to you straight. I called because I miss you. These last three days with you were…I don’t want to lose them. What are you eating for dinner? You didn’t eat lunch. Remember?”

  “Funny, but I’m not thinking about food. I just want to listen to music. Hold it while I put on Billie Holiday.”

  “Gosh, I wish I was there with you.”

  She was crazy, but she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. “Then…put on your shoes.”

  “You mean it?”

  “A bird doesn’t fly on one wing, Justin. Jeans and sneakers are fine. That’s what you’ll see when you get here.” She hung up and looked toward the ceiling. “Lord, help me to keep it between the lines. I could lose everything in the space of two short hours.”

  Justin debated stopping by a gourmet take-out shop and getting their dinner, but discarded the idea; a phone call from her house would do just as well. He went to his pantry, got two bottles of white and one bottle of red wine, put them in a shopping bag, got into his car and drove to her house. Midway there, it occurred to him that it was the perfect distance for a bicycle ride. She opened the door with an expectant expression on her face that tempted him to look behind him. Instead, he leaned forward and brushed her lips with a quick kiss, but it lasted long enough to heat him up.

  “That was quick,” she said.

  He didn’t attempt to stifle his grin. “Which? The kiss or my trip here?”

  Both of her eyebrows shot up. “I was talking about your trip here.”

  He handed her the wine. “I can phone out for some food later. You have to eat.”

  He decided to try and ease the tension. He wanted her, but if he rushed her, he’d lose a lot more than he gained. Deanna’s attitudes toward her job and him were almost as rigidly rooted as the foundation of a skyscraper. “What do you say?”

  She looked at him for a long time, and he realized that she was making a decision about him and her. “Should you be feeding me in my house?”

  “Yes. I definitely should be.” He laughed to take the punch out of his words, for he had said it much more forcibly than he’d intended.

  “Let’s listen to Billie Holiday first,” he said. “I don’t have many of her records.”

  “I have every recording she ever made,” Deanna said, and put three Holiday CDs on the CD player.

  Justin pushed a leather pouf beside an armchair. “Sit with your back to this,” he said, and when she did, he stretched out on the floor, put his head in her lap and closed his eyes. While Billie sang “Easy Living,” he let himself dream. After a while, when Billie switched to “Back In Your Own Back Yard,” soft fingers stroked his cheek, then began playing with strands of his hair, as if she were absentmindedly stroking and caressing. He expected that any minute she would lean over and kiss his forehead. Her hand moved down to his chest, then began to pat his belly to the tune of “Sunny Side Of The Street.” He hoped she retained the presence of mind to avoid his erogenous areas.

  He wanted to turn on his side facing her, wrap his arms around her, nudge her sweater out of the way and kiss the flesh of her bare belly, but if he did that, he’d want to go further, and that would shatter the contentment flowing between them. If he had to walk on a tight string, he’d do it. The more he had of her, the more he needed.

  When her belly made a telltale noise, he sat up. “I want lobster, tiny potatoes sautéed in butter and minced parsley, asparagus, green salad with blue cheese dressing, lemon meringue pie and, let’s see, maybe a quenelle with…no, I’d rather have New England clam chowder for an opener.”

  She stared at him. “It sounds wonderful, but where will you get it? I don’t know a restaurant open on Sunday evening that serves that.”

  “Gourmet Corner’s open. I’ll call Kix, place the order and send a limousine for it. Meanwhile, we’ll set the table here, and I’ll send the serving dishes and utensils back to Kix tomorrow. What would you like?”

  “You make it seem so simple. I’ll have what you’re having, except that I want a plain oil and vinegar dressing on my salad. While you order, I’ll find some snacks. I’m starving.”

  “You have every right to be.”

  He dialed Gourmet Corner. “This is Justin McCall. May I speak with Kix Shepherd?” He ordered the food, called the limousine company and went to the kitchen to find Deanna. “Fifty minutes to an hour from now, I’ll be eating clam chowder. The food’s good at Pinky’s, but when I want something wonderful, it’s Gourmet Corner for me.”

  “I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard that it’s first class.”

  “We’ll go there one evening soon. Not on Mondays, though, because Kix is off on Mondays. He’s the owner and chef. He has a couple of good sous-chefs, but they’re not at his level.”

  He opened a bottle of white wine, got two stem glasses and went back to the living room. She followed him with hot pigs in a blanket, cheese squares and crackers. He sat on the pouf beside the chair that she occupied.

  “Deanna, being here with you is so restful and peaceful that I may not want to leave. What I’ve seen of your home is conducive to rest and relaxing, with soft and warm colors and furniture meant for living.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a grin. “And I did this before I heard your lecture on the subject.”

  “Do you think we could be closer? Seriously, I mean.” He held up his right hand to stop her answer. “That was not a fair question. I think we can, and I hope you feel that way. I’m going to do what I can to make my company so enjoyable to you that you won’t want to be away from me a single minute. Will you mind?”

  “Will I mind if I want to be with you every minute? If it gets that bad, I don’t suppose it will matter whether I mind.”

  Better not touch that one, he said to himself. To her, he said, “The food will be here soon, so maybe we’d better set the table. Where can I wash my hands?” He washed up and noted that she placed linen placemats and napkins on the table along with the stem glasses, and breathed a sigh of relief. He doubted that he disliked anything in a house more than he detested paper napkins.

  The food arrived, and he took it to the kitchen, opened the parcel and called her. “Look at this, will you. Kix always sends my orders in nice serving dishes because he knows I’ll either send or take them back. He served the chowder. “You like it?”

  “It’s wonderful, Justin. Nice and hot.”

  After they finished the meal, he told her to wait in the living room while he washed the serving pieces and put her dishes in the dishwasher. It was his treat, and he didn’t want her to do the cleaning up. When he got back to her, she sat in the big chair with her eyes closed, patting her foot to Benny Goodman’s “Pickin’ Apples.”

  He stood behind the chair, leaned forward and kissed her lips. “I’d better go now, Deanna. This has been one of the most delightful evenings in my memory. Walk me to the door.” She sprang out of her chair.

  “I’m glad you came, Justin. I enjoyed being with you. And thanks for that delightful dinner.”

  When she opened her arms and looked up to him, his heart began to pound. He wrapped her close to him and parted his lips above her for the kiss she offered. It seemed so long before she touched his mouth, and when she did, his nerves began to riot in his body. She took him in, savored him and then released him.

  ‘You’re so nice, Justin. Good n
ight.”

  Chapter 4

  Justin awakened the following Monday morning at five o’clock, put on his running togs and headed for Pine Park. He’d give himself a month and no longer in which to make up his mind about Deanna, because she was not a woman that a man strung along. Nor did he believe she’d allow it. He increased his pace and ran until nearly exhausted before flinging himself on a park bench. Several starlings played around his feet, and he wished he had food for them. What did he want from Deanna other than the obvious? She reached him where he had never allowed himself to be touched, and she did it consistently. She made no demands on him, and he didn’t understand that. She lived comfortably, but she clearly was not wealthy, yet she asked for nothing, though she must know that he was worth millions. And another puzzling thing: she had discouraged his attention, though she was attracted to him the minute she saw him, just as he was attracted to her.

  He jogged back home, showered and dressed for work. As he prepared to leave, he thought of Deanna’s warm and cozy home, gazed around him at the wealth and stark beauty and released a mild expletive. There was nothing wrong with his house; he was the problem.

  Curious about Deanna’s work at Burton’s Department Store, Justin decided to go there on a Saturday morning when Deanna would be off and the store would be crowded, in which case there was less likelihood that he would be recognized. He went first to contemporary living and dining rooms, checking both the designs and materials she used as well as the way in which she arranged them. Impressed with Deanna’s taste, he checked all of her sample rooms, including kitchens and baths.

  “She has taste and style,” he wrote on his notepad and added, “For each kind of room, she has a signature motif. If she decorated it, you know you’re looking at a Lawford job. Classy.” That evening when he called her, he told her of his estimation of her work and congratulated her.

  “I’m hoping to build a following at Burton’s so I can venture on my own. I know it will be difficult, and I’m fully prepared for that.”