by Mary Haskell
"We'll take you for however long we can have you." Larry sounded sincerely pleased by the impending visit.
"Wonderful. We'll cal from the Brewsters' on Saturday and tel you what time to expect us. I'm sure they'll give us a ride over."
When they had concluded the cal , Larry ambled into the kitchen, covering a yawn. "Life sure doesn't get dul around here." He gave Jenny a hug. "If I can make it upstairs, I'm going to bed now. You guys had better be quick if you want to say good night before I pass out."
The kids said good night to their father at the foot of the stairs, then came back to help Jenny. Rick took the plates from her hands. "Mom, why don't you go up and talk to Dad? We can finish this."
Jenny smiled at him grateful y, hoping that they would be lucky beyond belief and that the rest of the teen years would not destroy this uniquely considerate disposition. "Thanks, Rick. I'll take you up on that as soon as I get the leftovers stored."
By the time she entered the bedroom Larry was sound asleep, wrapped around his pil ow, looking very like a teenager himself. She washed up, took off her cotton wraparound skirt and pul over top, and put them neatly away. She tossed her undies into the hamper and put on a short, lightweight nightie. Then, after crawling into bed beside her sleeping husband, she reached over to the bedside table and switched off the light.
She lay awake a long time, curled tightly against Larry's back, savoring the warmth of his body, forcing her mind away from threats from the past, dwelling instead on the coming two days, which promised to be pleasurable. She would insist that Larry spend most of Saturday resting. No matter how he did it, a business trip to Australia was tiring. She pressed her eyes shut, determined to drift off to sleep. But even as she tried to ignore it, she found the mere thought of the coming week draining.
Saturday passed at its usual busy pace. Jenny spent part of the day carting Rick and Christy around, then went out to work in the garden. Larry insisted upon helping, weeding and chatting alongside her until the hot sun got to him and he stretched out on the grass and fel asleep.
Jenny was content to dig and pick and clip back, happy to have her husband close by, even if he was out like a light. Actual y she was rather relieved. On several occasions she had felt the subject of Ky threatening to break out of its cage of silence. Never big on directly confronting a ticklish subject, she was more than pleased to put this one off as long as possible. In fact, she hoped they could avoid it until after his folks left. She wanted to have a nice, easy visit with Anna and Ed Andrews.
"Hey, Grandpa! Catch!"
Ed Andrews, in his late sixties stil a ruggedly attractive man, reached up to make a smooth catch of the footbal Rick had shot in his direction. Jenny smiled, knowing that Ed would have taken off on a run for the staked-off goal if his wife had not firmly put her foot down on that activity the year before. Ed had been an al -
star athlete in his youth, and he stil had the build and stamina of a much younger man. However, he also had a strong-minded, sensible wife who was determined not to spend any significant portion of her life as a widow.
Jenny and Christy spread a blanket out on the freshly cut grass and moved the hamper ful of plastic plates and utensils to its edge. Anna and Ed adored picnics, and there wasn't a prettier spot in the world for one than right here in Jenny and Larry's backyard.
They had been incredibly lucky to find this house in Wel esley Hil s. It sat on two acres of sloping land, which was bordered by an active creek that never seemed to get below a steady trickle even in the dry months of summer. They had bought the charming old colonial the first year they were married—hocking their souls, as Larry put it— to swing the deal. But every time she real y stood back and looked at the house, she blessed Larry's eye for value.
Anna came out the back door, carrying a large tray with a bowl balanced on top. Christy ran to help her. The three of them made one more trip to the kitchen for the rest of the supplies, then sat and watched Larry and his father throwing the footbal with Rick.
"There you are," Anna observed, "one genuine youth and two cases of arrested development."
Jenny laughed. "Ed real y loves footbal , doesn't he. I wonder why Larry never got into it."
Anna poured a glassful of lemonade out of the big thermos. "Larry was otherwise occupied during the years that he might have become involved with the sport."
Jenny glanced at her curiously. Had Larry said anything to her about Ky, or was the indirect reference coincidental? Christy jumped up and ran to join the men, shouting, "Hey, I want to play, too!"
"Okay, here you go." Larry threw her a swift shot, which she caught neatly, earning a genuine compliment from her brother.
Jenny fiddled with the hamper, setting out the food. She had made crabmeat sandwiches and German potato salad. There were also pickles, potato chips, beer, and a homemade apple pie. Anna smiled at her. "Why don't you leave that, Jenny? We can certainly help ourselves. You've gone to far too much trouble as it is."
"Don't be sil y. It was no trouble. I love picnics. And it's such a treat to see you two." Anna reached over to touch her hand. The exchange of affection did not require further words. "Anna,"—Jenny swal owed nervously
—"did Larry tel you that he expects to see Ky Kayle next week?"
Anna's eyes widened in surprise. "No, I had no idea. How in heaven did that come up?"
"Evidently she has a successful business in Dal as, designing clothes. She contacted one of Larry's partners, Wil Samuelson, who's a tax expert." Jenny paused. "That's funny. I hadn't thought of it before, but I wonder why she chose someone way up here in Boston rather than finding help in Dal as. I'm sure there would be a perfectly adequate firm there."
Anna pursed her lips. When she spoke her tone was dry and almost sarcastic. "I can't imagine."
For the first time the suspicion entered Jenny's mind that Ky could have set this up as a way to see Larry again. The thought was chil ing. But before anything else could be said, the others clamored around, broadcasting their hunger.
The picnic was so fil ed with laughter, corny jokes, and good humor that Jenny almost managed to forget her mother-in-law's remark. Until she caught Anna studying Larry's face with a worried expression on her own.
Larry took the last of the trash to the garage and put it into the barrel. Having thoroughly enjoyed the day, he felt rested and content. Jenny was incredible. She had whipped up a sumptuous picnic lunch with practical y no show of effort—and after that elegant welcome home dinner, too. She was an amazing woman, his wife. He reminded himself to ask how her work with Professor Clemens was coming, then recal ed that the good professor was on vacation.
"Larry?"
He turned. "Just a second, Mom, be right with you." He replaced the lid of the trash can and went outside, closing the garage door behind him. Draping his arm across his mother's shoulders, he started to amble with her toward the house. "Where is everyone?"
She stopped. "Rick and your father took a walk, and Christy and Jenny are finishing up in the kitchen. They booted me out."
"And wel they should. The afternoon is disappearing too fast. I wish you and Dad could stay for a couple of days."
"I appreciate that kind thought. But what's that old saying about always leaving before your hosts wish you would?"
He gave her a hug, then dropped his arm. "As far as Jenny and I are concerned, you two have yet to wear out your welcome."
Anna stared at her hands for a moment, and when she looked back at him her expression was solemn.
"Speaking of you and Jenny, what is this about your seeing Ky next week?"
Larry felt a shock of surprise and more than a slight rush of misgiving. He didn't want to discuss Ky with his mother. "So Jenny told you."
"Yes, Jenny told me. And the fact that she did translates, at least as far as I can see, into an indication of her concern."
Larry took her arm. "Let's go up to the terrace and sit down."
They walked silently to the stone terrace
at the top of the rise behind the house. In its center stood a quaint, old- fashioned gazebo. Jenny had always wanted a gazebo, so four years previously, when she had taken the kids to Georgia to spend a week with her parents, Larry had, with the aid of a carpenter, constructed it for her as a surprise. He would always remember, with deep pleasure, the expression on her face the first time she'd seen it.
He and his mother settled themselves in one comer on the bench before either of them spoke again.
"Mom, it isn't something I planned, you know."
"I understand that, Larry. But I suspect it's more than possible that Ky planned it."
He stared at her in amazement. "Why, Mother. And I had begun to think I was wrong about your disliking Ky."
She looked at him steadily. "You were always wrong about that, Larry. I didn't dislike Ky. What I disliked, at a certain point, was what Ky brought out—or to be more accurate, what Ky suppressed—in you."
Larry tried to fight the rising surge of anger and frustration he remembered acutely from that period so long past. "There is a word for that statement. Mother." His voice was sharp. "I believe it is obtuse."
Anna put the tips of her fingers together very precisely, which meant she was careful y considering her reply.
"Larry, you and I have never discussed this subject, because we couldn't. There was too much anger connected with it. You seemed to blame me."
"Mom—"
"No, let me finish. When you and Ky were very young, and just friends, I found the relationship charming. She was always an enchantress, bright and lovely and ful of fun. If I were the sort who kept diaries, I daresay I could tel you the exact day the relationship changed."
Their eyes met. Larry's dropped first. He couldn't believe she had been that astute.
She continued. "From that time on she enslaved you, Larry. You were so terribly young, and so naive and so smitten, that I'm sure you have no concept of what I'm saying, but it tore me apart. You had been like Rick and Christy are now, quickly developing into your own person, confident, ful of promise, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. But then I watched the change. There was no longer the big group of buddies; there was just Ky. She wanted exclusive rights. You even passed up going on that camping expedition that one summer, remember?
Even though it was something you'd planned on al year. Because Ky didn't want you to." She stood and crossed to the other side of the gazebo. "I could cite so many other examples, but why bother?" She turned to face him. "If I was wrong, I'm sorry, but I don't think I was. Ky didn't just love you, she engulfed you.
That's why I opposed the match."
Larry stood and went to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her on the forehead. "Mom, don't worry about it, it's al in the past."
She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. "You were only twenty the last time you saw her, Larry. Be careful.
Twenty-year-old emotions have a disconcerting appeal as one reaches forty."
He laughed aloud. "Now I do smel a conspiracy between you and my wife. She seems to see some encroaching midlife something-or-other, too."
Anna patted his arm. "Jenny and I have not discussed this at al ." She started out the archway of the gazebo, then stopped once more to aim that steady look at him. "Larry, I just hope you realize what a treasure you have in Jenny. Not to mention those two children."
He put his arm around her waist as they headed for the house. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm ful y aware of my blessings."
As Larry watched Jenny getting ready for bed that night, he heard the echo of his mother's words. Of course he didn't agree with her assessment of the relationship between him and Ky, but some of what she'd said made a lot of sense. And his mother was right about Jenny; she was a treasure. A great wave of gratitude engulfed him. His eyes fol owed his wife's movements as she took off her clothes and hung them neatly, dropped her underwear into the hamper, then pul ed on the sweetly styled short nightie. He liked to watch her do things; she was always so methodical, so consistent. Consistency was such an ingrown part of her nature, it permeated al of her actions—with him, with her children, even with household chores.
At times he found himself impatient with her regularity, but at this moment he realized that with that consistency went an enormous measure of reliability. Jenny was always there for al of them, steady, unswerving. She assisted, consoled, guarded, shared. But she certainly never engulfed. Jenny believed in the individuality of the individual, and she offered her love and her aid with no attempt to invade anyone's privacy.
One fact he should not lose track of was that he had always, right from the start, felt completely comfortable with Jenny. It had not taken him long to reach the point of wanting to be married to her, to have her around al the time to share things with. He couldn't remember if he'd ever felt that particular urge with Ky.
He went to Jenny and put his arms around her. She nestled close, seeming to need the contact. Larry rubbed his cheek against her hair, breathing deeply. Her hair always smel ed so fresh and clean. "Jen."
"What, honey?"
"I'd like to discuss something with you."
Her great brown eyes darted up to meet his. They looked fearful, like a frightened doe's. "Al right."
He took her hand and led her to the bed. They sat on the edge of it, not quite touching. "I'm going to reschedule my meeting to Cleveland for next week. I'm sorry to leave again so soon, but I've decided to avoid seeing Ky again."
Jenny's heart leapt into her throat. She wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or more anxious. "Why?"
"Wel , it's such old history. I'm sorry about what happened, but there's nothing I can do about it now, and I'm afraid the time for apologies is long gone." He touched her hair, tenderly pushing a lock of it behind her ear. "I can't tel you how much better it felt to unload al of that at Naushon. Nothing like dumping it al on you, right?"
Jenny saw that his smile was tenuous, asking her forebearance. She wound her fingers in his, gladly giving it.
"I don't know what would happen if I saw her; probably just a passing memory of something lost. But if it's al right with you, I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie, as the old saying goes."
She felt the tears wel ing in her eyes. "It is most certainly al right with me."
"Good, then that's settled. Ky is due to be here on Tuesday and Wednesday. I'll leave for Cleveland Monday night and return on Thursday."
The relief Jenny felt was overwhelming. She had no need to test his love any further than this. She just wanted her home and her marriage kept safe and unchanged. If that meant closing her mind to the possibility that Ky Kayle might stil hold an attraction for Larry, she was more than wil ing to do it.
He walked over and closed the bedroom door. Rick and Christy were asleep, but he knew that Jenny didn't like to take chances. She watched him cross to her, his eyes opaque with desire. He turned off the light, leaving the room il umined only by the bright shaft of moonlight that cut through the window.
Jenny rose to meet his embrace, curving her body into his, winding her arms around his neck and holding tightly. He kissed her with consummate sweetness, his lips soft and supple, yielding up his love, undemanding, giving. She lifted her arms so he could easily pul the nightgown over her head, shivering slightly as a cool breeze from the open window caressed her bare flesh.
"Jenny, Jenny," he whispered, "I do love you so."
Her joy knew no bounds. She eagerly unbuttoned his pajama top, slipping it off, letting her hands enjoy the feel of his firm shoulders as she did. He untied his pants, let them drop, and kicked them to one side. His mouth laid claim to hers once again, his long-fingered, strong hands rubbing her shoulder blades, the smal of her back, and sliding down to grasp the soft round buttocks.
Jenny was suffused in the warm glow of love, content beyond measure to be here, held in the arms of this man she loved so completely. She ran her hands over the hard hewn muscles of his back, digging her fingers into the solid flesh.
With a
deep sigh he eased her to the bed, bending over her to lick the tips of her breasts, a gesture that sent great shuddering quivers through her. His hand caressed the silky skin of her bel y as his lips pressed and pul ed at her tightening nipples.
She ran her hand up the inside of his leg, cupping him in her palm, gently squeezing, thril ed further by the growl that escaped his lips. Her palm moved back and forth, increasing the girth of his excitement. His lips moved down to the soft area that his hand had just left, then further. Jenny gasped, and her body convulsed.
Larry's lips returned to the tender skin of her bel y, then to her tingling nipples, teasing her to an agitated intensity.
With a cry she pul ed him up to her, into her, body to body, body in body, two love gluttons satiating themselves on their mutual need. With a great, heaving shudder, the union was complete. "Larry, oh Larry,"
she breathed, ful of wonder at the depth of her happiness.
He lifted himself to his elbows and kissed her eyes and her temples and each lip, separately. Their eyes held, gleaming the marvel back and forth, a silent verse of love poetry. They fel asleep, stil interlocked in their oneness.
Chapter Four
Jenny hunched her shoulders and stretched her arms out in front of her, pul ing at the tense muscles in the back of her neck. It was Thursday afternoon, and she had been immersed in research for four hours, lost in the intriguing intel ectual detective work that so fascinated her. Delving into the history of violence was confirming her innate belief that violence had been, was, and ever would be an active ingredient of the human animal.
Professor Clemens had returned from his vacation wel rested and eager to get to work, and Jenny and he had started the new schedule by working for five hours on Monday evening. Larry had gone to the airport directly from the office, and Rick and Christy, as usual, were not at al bothered by the prospect of spending the evening alone. It meant they could do their homework with the music at ful volume, a privilege they did not enjoy when either of their parents were home.
She checked her watch. One-thirty. Time to go get a sandwich and take a break. Putting her notes careful y into her briefcase, she returned the two reference books to their slots on the shelf, noting the position of the one she would need when she returned to the library. She would work for two more hours, then go home in time to make dinner before Larry returned from Cleveland. Hard as it was to believe, she had already clocked twenty-five hours of work this week.