Yes, I Do

by Gwynne Forster

  “We’ll be able to see the sunset,” he told her when she joined him. “It’s strange how I manage to ignore all the wonders of this environment. I haven’t watched the sunset here but once since I had the place built. I saw it from my bedroom window. It was awesome.”

  “If you ever retire, would you retire here or in Woodmore?”

  He stopped brushing oil on the grill. “I haven’t given that serious thought. I think I’d retire wherever the woman who loved me and who I loved wanted to live. As long as she was happy, I know I would be.”

  He tried to read her facial expression, but couldn’t. “If you had the choice, what would you do?”

  “I imagine it’s very cold here in winter, so I’d probably live here from early spring till autumn and stay somewhere else in winter. At Thanksgiving and Christmas, I love the crisp weather and especially the snow.”

  He got two brown rattan chairs from the garage, set them near the aluminum grill facing the ocean and the rapidly approaching sunset and beckoned her to sit down. He put a low bench near the chairs, got two glasses of white Burgundy wine and handed one to her. He crossed his knees and leaned back in the chair, and when her fingers curled around the fingers of his left hand, he closed his eyes and let peace flow over him.

  This is right. For the first time in my life, I know I’m in a state of grace. This is it, and I want it for all time. I don’t miss anyone or anything. She’s all I want and all I need. I could lose McCall’s, and I’d fret about it for a time, then buckle down and build it up again. But if I lost her, I’d be eternally devastated, and nothing, including McCall’s, would mean anything to me.

  “Look!” she said. “Just look at that.”

  The sun had become a huge red disk that seemed to hang by an invisible thread that gently lowered it into the swirling Atlantic. For a minute, it hung seemingly perilously at the edge of the horizon and then dropped into the ocean, leaving behind streaks of red, orange, gray, blue and yellow on the most beautiful sky he’d ever seen.

  “It’s breathtaking,” she whispered.

  He reached over, picked her up and sat her in his lap. “Yes. Maybe it’s like this tonight because we’re together. I can’t believe I never take the time to watch it.”

  “Maybe you needed company.”

  “No doubt about it,” he said, and she didn’t know how right she was. “I’m going to put the meat and potatoes on to roast. It only takes the vegetables a few minutes.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “I don’t want you to do anything. Just be here with me.”

  As they ate, she watched the moon emerge as if it had been buried in the bowels of the ocean. As it cast its long ray of light, she could see the waves undulating beneath it like a woman beneath her lover. She heard herself utter the unimaginable: “Those waves are making mad love to the moon.”

  “Yeah. Undulating is the word for it. I never thought about it before, but I can imagine what some poets have done with this scene. It’s pretty cool. Do you want to go in?”

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s put the chairs and the grill away, I’ll get out some of the CDs I brought along and we can listen to some music.”

  After that sunset, she was not in the mood for any wild music, so she chose some CDs of old Teddy Wilson, Benny Goodman and Duke Ellington recordings and headed back downstairs. She wanted to spend the night in his bed, but she was playing for high stakes. Should she postpone that for Saturday night? She knew he was like a firecracker, and she was pretty close to exploding herself, but…

  “I’m on my way,” she said when he called her.

  He played Teddy Wilson, walked over to her and said, “I want to dance with you.” She didn’t look into his eyes, for she knew what hers would tell him. He didn’t stop until the last piece finished. She looked at him, and the hunger in his eyes shook her until she reached out to him in order to steady herself.

  He only wants what I want, she said to herself, took his hand, made her way up the stairs and led him to her room door. “Do you want to come in?”

  “Are you sure? Do you want me?”

  “You know I do.”

  He picked her up, kicked the door shut behind them and, with the moon for their only light, he stripped away their clothes. As they stood together holding each other, nude, he said, “I have more worldly possessions than any man needs, but if you won’t share my life, it will be meaningless.”

  She needed to hear it in plain, first-grade English. “I am sharing your life.”

  “But not to the extent that I want you to and that I need.”

  She moved slightly, and the hairs on his chest tickled her nipple and she rubbed it. “Let me do that,” he said, widening his stance, lifting her to him and sucking the nipple into his mouth. She stroked and squeezed him, and he suckled her while moving against her until screams erupted from her throat.

  He’d done all kinds of things to her, but he’d never positioned her on the edge of the bed and made love to her while standing above her. Minutes after they both exploded in orgasm, he lay on his back, raised his knees, positioned her above him and taught her how to guarantee her satisfaction.

  “I love you, Deanna. You’re my life. Tell me you love me,” he said, when she was nearing completion. “I need you to love me. Do you? Do you love me?”

  She tried to hold back, but when she exploded all around him, she shouted his name. “Yes, I love you. I loved you from the start.”

  “Sweetheart, I love you so much,” he said and gave himself to her as she knew he’d never done before.

  “I’m yours,” he said quietly and matter-of-factly. “And I will always be. Will you marry me and be the mother of our children?”

  She hugged him. “What will I say when our daughter asks me where I was when you asked me to marry you?”

  “You can tell her Nags Head. You don’t have to tell her what you were doing.”

  “But suppose she asks what I was doing.”

  “Tell her we were addressing some important issues.” He moved her from him, knelt at the side of the bed and asked her again. “Will you be my wife?”

  “It will be the greatest honor of my life, Justin. Yes.”

  A grin lit up his face. “There was a time when I thought the word yes wasn’t in your vocabulary. I’ll spend the rest of my life doing my best to make you happy and to take good care of you and our children.”

  “I’m only good for three, Justin.”

  “Three what?”

  “Children. Three’s enough.”

  “Fine with me. I just want a family.” He got back into the bed, gathered her into his arms and loved her until they were spent and their bodies lie useless and entwined like a heap of used and discarded furniture.

  She awakened the next morning to the smell of coffee when he put a breakfast tray on the night table beside her bed. He leaned over and kissed her.

  “Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

  “Best sleep I ever had. You’re spoiling me, and I love it.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Your rings are in a safe deposit box in Danvers. I’ll get them Monday.”

  “Gosh. I hadn’t remembered. That’s right, I’m supposed to stick my left hand out for everyone to see. I have a dinner date with my stepsister Monday evening. She’s just back from six months in the Ivory Coast where she fell in love, and we have a million things to talk about.”

  “Can we meet Tuesday at lunchtime? I want to seal our commitment as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, but as far as I’m concerned, it is sealed.”

  After the happiest three days of her life, Justin kissed her goodbye in the foyer of her house at around seven that Sunday evening. The house looked the same as she’d left it, but it didn’t seem real. It would take her a while to get used to the fact that she was engaged to marry Justin McCall.

  Justin walked into his big, sprawling house, turned on the foyer lights, dropped his weekend bag and his euphoria seeped
out of him like liquid through a sieve. He didn’t see how he could bear being away from her, being lonely in that big house after having been with her twenty-four hours a day. She filled his life so completely and so perfectly.

  “What the hell. I’ve been alone for most of my thirty-four years, but now that I know that a life with her awaits me, I can tough it out for a couple more months. At least I know she’s mine and that she loves me.”

  Deanna arose early the next morning anxious to greet the day. She didn’t walk, but tripped around her house with the spring of new life and new hope permeating her being. She answered the phone at eight o’clock, knowing she’d hear Justin’s voice. And after a breakfast of coffee, toast and juice, she sat down to go through her mail. She picked up the letter from Dupree Hotels, was about to throw it into the wastebasket, changed her mind and opened it.

  A gasp escaped her, and she nearly lost her breath. It was not an advertisement, but an offer for a contract to decorate the new, high-rise hotel being built in downtown Woodmore, a hotel that would aim for a four-to five-star rating. She shouted and whooped. A phone call to Justin went unanswered. So she telephoned the builders of the Dupree Hotel, said she was interested and a few minutes later was on her way to Fifth Street and Court House Square to meet the builders.

  “We want this hotel to be the best in Woodmore,” the builder told her, “and we want its interior design to guarantee that it stays that way. That means its furnishings will be elegant and subdued.”

  She looked the man in the eye. “That costs money.”

  “And we’re willing to spend it. We have one caveat: You must buy everything wholesale. I can give you the names of some linen suppliers, but you don’t have to use them. We know your work, and we’re willing to give you a contract.”

  She glanced over the contract that he handed her. “You have twelve floors and a penthouse of guest rooms. I suggest three different patterns for the twelve floors and a different one for the penthouse. The three patterns would alternate. If you like that idea, I’ll let my lawyer go over this contract and I’ll bring it back tomorrow morning.”

  “Wonderful, Ms. Lawford. What about tomorrow morning at nine right here?”

  She agreed, thanked them and left. Not in her wildest dreams had she contemplated such good fortune. After her lawyer corrected two strategic points, she signed the contract. Where was Justin, and why didn’t he answer his cell phone? She was boiling over with joy, wanted to share her good fortune with him, and he was nowhere to be found.

  “Mr. McCall is in Danvers today,” his secretary told her.

  “He doesn’t answer his cell phone, so—”

  “I suppose he doesn’t want to be disturbed. Is there a message?”

  “No,” Deanna said, imagining the delight of wringing the woman’s neck.

  She met Jennyse, her stepsister, for dinner and enjoyed a loving embrace with her. “Jenny, a million things happened to me since we spoke Thursday. Justin asked me to marry him, and I get my ring at lunch tomorrow. And would you believe I’m going to decorate that new Dupree Hotel?”

  “Slow down, girl. You’re engaged to Justin McCall?”

  “He’s wonderful, and oh, Jenny, I’m nuts about him.”

  “I said I was going to give up all forms of alcohol but, girl, this calls for champagne.” She signaled for the waiter. “Now tell me about this hotel contract. Did you show it to a lawyer?”

  Deanna nodded. “Oh, Lord, I just remembered something. This could cause a problem. If I hadn’t started my company, McCall’s would have gotten this contract.”

  The waiter opened the champagne and filled their glasses. “Here’s to you, sis,” Jennyse said.

  “And here’s to you and happiness with your new love, sis,” Deanna replied.

  “I wouldn’t worry about McCall’s,” Jennyse told her. “If the guy loves you and you’re marrying him, it’s all in the family.”

  Jennyse could not have been further from the truth. “Great,” Justin said Tuesday morning, when she spoke with him on the phone. “That’s a huge job. I hate to lose it, but since you’ll be buying the furnishings through McCall’s, we won’t be out too much.”

  She could feel icy prickles on her back, arms and legs. This was not going to be pleasant. No point in procrastinating. She took a deep breath. “Justin, my contract requires that I buy everything wholesale.”

  “What? What did you say? You take a job that would normally go to McCall’s and then you sign a contract that says you will not buy even a string from me. How could you do such a thing? You’re undermining my—”

  She didn’t want to hear another word. “Justin, we’d better hang up before we say some hurtful things. I don’t accept your castigating me as if you didn’t know how decorators work. Let’s talk another time.”

  “Another time? You tell me you love me, and then you—”

  “Don’t say it. Just hang up. We’ll talk when you cool off. That is, if you ever do.”

  She hung up without waiting to hear more. He knew well that no decorator worth his or her earnings would buy from a department store or any other retail operation. After pacing the floor for fifteen minutes, she picked up a porcelain vase and tossed it across the room, striking the corner of her dresser and breaking the vase into smithereens.

  “Damned if I’ll cry.”

  Maybe she’d never wear the ring that was purchased for Justin’s grandmother and which she wore. And maybe she wouldn’t live as long as Justin’s grandmother lived. Such was life. It wouldn’t kill her. One thing was certain: when she finished with Woodmore’s Dupree Hotel, not even the great Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, Thailand would outshine it. Sleep was a long time coming.

  In his office later that day, Justin answered the telephone. “Yes!” If he sounded angry, he didn’t care, because he was angry.

  “Who got the better of you? That’s no way to greet customers. I assume you’ll be over for dinner tonight as usual. Cook said to tell you she’s having roast pork and that jalapeño corn bread you like.”

  “Really? Ask her to cook some collards southern-style.”

  “I’ll do that, and you get whatever’s ailing you straightened out.”

  Fat chance. If she’d signed the contract, it was a done deal. He opened his desk drawer, picked up the red velvet box, opened it and gazed at the fiery two and three-quarter carat diamond ring flanked by two one-carat diamonds. His grandfather gave him the engagement ring and the matching wedding band when his grandmother died, and he had never seen a woman other than Deanna to whom he wanted to give it. He locked his desk drawer and dropped the key into the vest pocket of his jacket. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. But it hurt. He felt as if he’d die.

  Justin didn’t want to go to his grandfather’s home for dinner that evening, but it was Tuesday, and from the time he left home to live on his own, he’d had dinner every Tuesday night with his granddad. He didn’t want to talk about Deanna, but the old man was like a riveter; he kept digging until he got to his target.

  He arrived promptly at seven that evening with a bottle of Courvoisier VSOP Napoleon cognac for his granddad and a bunch of yellow roses for Wilma, who his grandfather called Cook.

  “Good!” Robert McCall said when he saw the cognac. “Nothing’s better than a good brandy after a fine meal. We’ll have some.” His grandfather didn’t discuss anything of serious importance while eating, so Justin knew he’d have to wait until after the meal to hear what his grandfather would have to say about McCall’s losing the hotel contract.

  Justin kissed Wilma’s forehead as they left the dining room. “That meal really hit the spot.” He followed his grandfather into the living room, waited for him to sit down and leaned forward. “Granddad, this past weekend, I asked Deanna to marry me, and yesterday, I got Gramma’s ring out of the vault to give to her.”

  “Well, now that really calls for a toast. She’s a fine woman, and I liked her the minute I saw her. Is she planning to give me any great-gra
ndchildren?”

  “Don’t move so fast, Granddad. That’s not the end of the story.” Robert’s face had a sudden look of alarm. “She told me Tuesday morning that she signed a contract to decorate and furnish the Dupree Hotel that they’ve started building on Fifth Street. It’s a contract that would normally have gone to McCall’s and she knows it, but she actually contracted to buy everything for that hotel from wholesalers and not one scrap from McCall’s. We’re out of more than a million dollars.”

  Robert leaned back and savored his cognac. “And that’s got you mad enough to eat nails. I hope you didn’t say anything to her that you’ll have to eat.”

  “I’d barely started, and she hung up on me.”

  “I don’t blame her. Son, you’ve been in this business long enough to know that every decorator buys from wholesalers, unless that’s impossible. How’s she going to make any money if she buys from a retailer? You’ve already added thirty percent, and that’s the thirty percent that she’d get.” Robert swirled the cognac around in the snifter, inhaled the fumes and smiled his satisfaction. Then he savored another sip. “If McCall’s had the job, we would have purchased everything wholesale or used something that we had already purchased wholesale. Ease up. You’ve got some work to do, son, because she expected support, and look what she got.”

  “That’s your view, Granddad, but she could at least have discussed it with me before she signed that contract or figured out a way for us to work together.”

  “You hate to lose, son, and that’s a good thing, because it makes you work hard. But don’t be stubborn about this when you know you’re wrong. If you don’t shape up, you’ll lose that woman, because neither you nor any other man is going to walk over her. Love doesn’t cover everything. Mark my word!”

  Upon returning home, Justin lifted the receiver of his house phone to call Deanna, remembered his irritation, savored it a bit and hung up. He wasn’t going to lie. She’d hung one on him, and no man wanted his woman to beat him out of a prize. She should know that.