Hold Fast 'Til the Dawn

by Mary Haskell

  "Jenny," the satin voice protested, "you don't have to do that. I can sit in back."

  "No, that's al right. You're our guest, and Larry wil probably want to tel you about some of the people you'll meet."

  "That's very considerate."

  Larry had closed the door beside Ky and taken his place behind the wheel. "Jenny's always considerate."

  Good old Jenny, good old Jenny silently groused. Such a whale of a good sport. "It's nice to have a chance to meet you, Ky." Her tone sounded forced. Why wouldn't it. It was forced. "You must be excited about how wel your business is going. Larry was pleased to hear about your success." There. Let her know that Larry tel s me everything.

  "I am excited." Why did she look at Larry when she said that? The eyes flicked back to Jenny. "Larry tel s me you're a wonderful mother."

  And I sew al my own clothes and al the girls like me. Jenny felt dowdier by the second. "Wel , I am proud of Rick and Christy."

  "And wel you should be. It's apparent that they're remarkably bright and delightful."

  Jenny wanted to stamp her foot. How was she going to hate this woman if she kept on being so nice? "Wil you be coming to Boston often?" Would Ky know the real reason for the question?

  Ky turned in her seat to give Jenny her ful attention. Yes, it was obvious that she knew. Jenny had the weird sensation of a war map dangling between them, with strategic missiles being positioned, one by one. "That will al depend on how successful the venture is."

  Knowing black eyes met knowing brown eyes in a silent acknowledgment of the identity of the venture.

  Ky shifted her attention to Larry. "Do you remember Ken Blaisdell, Larry?"

  "Sure, I do. He was our star quarterback for most of the years we were in high school."

  "Such a sil y game, footbal . Al that banging around." Ky laughed, a pleasant rippling sound. Why couldn't she snort, or hoot, or do something gross? "Anyway, he cal ed about three or four months ago, just out of the blue.

  He asked me for a date. It seems he and his wife have split up."

  "Did you go?"

  "Yes. It was fun to see him. He looks good, very fit. Just as crazy as ever."

  Larry laughed. "That's saying a lot. What a nut! We al had such good times together. You should meet this guy, Jenny," Larry flung over his shoulder. "Or on second thought, I guess you shouldn't. He's a little wild for your taste." But not for mine and Ky's, the sentence silently finished. "So how did things go with Ken?"

  "I had to put a quick end to it. After about three dates he became very serious."

  Larry's glance met Ky's. "Natural y. Who wouldn't?" With the tip of the perfectly formed fingernail on the end of her perfectly formed forefinger, Ky flicked a tiny thread off the sleeve of Larry's jacket. The sparks al but ignited the fabric. Jenny felt il . "Here we are." Larry swung into the driveway and parked in front of the garage doors.

  "Larry," Jenny prompted, "shouldn't we park on the street? This way we'll get boxed in and have to stay to the end." Neither she nor Larry were crazy about cocktail parties.

  Larry turned off the ignition and reached for the door handle. "In this case, I think we should stay. Ky would appreciate our sticking around, since these wil al be strange faces to her."

  Ky's glowing face again turned to Jenny. "I hope you'll bear with me, Jenny. I feel it's my obligation to be here the entire time. They're giving the reception for me, and it would be impolite of me to leave." Was there to be no flaw in this paragon? Jenny's crushed spirit asked.

  There was an awkward moment as Larry tried to escort the two women up the front walk. Jenny graciously waved them ahead. She was being so kind she was giving herself a headache.

  Martha met them at the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Ky and shifting anxiously to Jenny. It didn't take a mind reader to read that message. It was Uh-oh. "Come in, come in. Welcome!" Martha quickly col ected herself and rose to the social occasion, ushering them in, introducing herself, cal ing Wil , taking drink orders.

  It's easy enough for Martha to do, Jenny complained silently. Her husband wasn't about to be gobbled up by a rare, exotic husband-eater. Wil draped an arm around Ky's shoulders, making Jenny's stomach lurch anew.

  Wil didn't easily relax with most people. He was a true New Englander, taking his time to make friends, then keeping them forever. He was also far from a flirt, so his easygoing familiarity with Ky meant only one thing: he liked her and felt comfortable with her. She must be genuine and nice. One more turn of the knife.

  Martha came to Jenny's side as soon as she decently could. "My, my," she said.

  Jenny looked at her disconsolately. "Yes, that about says it, doesn't it."

  Martha touched her arm sympathetical y. "Now, Jenny, I can't imagine that anyone can shake a marriage as solid as yours and Larry's."

  Jenny gave a half-laugh, with no humor intended. "But if anyone can, she can."

  Martha shook her had. "That's not what I meant at al ."

  "I know it isn't." Jenny shrugged in a gesture of defeat. "But it's what we're both thinking, isn't it?"

  The doorbel saved Martha from having to make a reply. She rushed to greet the arriving guests, and Jenny searched for an inconspicuous place to stand.

  The house soon fil ed with people. Jenny passed dazedly from one group to the next, introducing, being introduced, forgetting every new name as soon as it was uttered. Two giant, blazing facts dominated the evening. Ky Kayle was a sensation, the constant center of admiring attention. And Larry was irrefutably with her every moment of the evening. If he was not right by her side, their eyes were meeting across the room or fol owing each other wherever they moved. The electricity between the two was so evident that Jenny could not, even with effort, ignore it.

  She gave a huge sigh of relief when Gina and Joe walked in the front door. Larry came to meet them at the same moment they reached Jenny's side. After the round of "Hi, how are you"s, Larry turned to Jenny. "Can I refresh your drink?"

  No, just our marriage vows. "No thanks, not yet."

  "Wel then, guess I'd better circulate a bit." He clapped Joe on the shoulder. "Come on, buddy, I'll guide you to the bar." Jenny noted that he pointed Joe in the direction of the bar, then headed back toward Ky.

  "How's it going? Looks like a smashing success."

  "What?" Jenny brought her attention back to Gina. "Oh... yes. It certainly seems to be that."

  "Wel , don't jump up and down with enthusiasm. I know cocktail parties aren't your thing, but they aren't that bad!"

  Joe reappeared at their side, putting a fil ed glass in his wife's hand. "Where's the guest of honor?"

  "Over there." Jenny gave an unenthusiastic wave of the hand.

  "My word." Joe's glass tipped, al owing a dribble of liquid to drop on the rug. "Whoops." He righted the glass.

  Gina's eyes fol owed his, widened, then swung back to Joe. "Whoops is right. Stop drooling."

  "I can look, can't I?"

  "No!" Gina blatantly stared at the gorgeous, red-clad figure for a moment, then looked at Jenny. "I think you should invite her to go sailing with us."

  Jenny gaped at her. "Are you crazy?"

  "Like a fox. We'll do a 'whoops' of our own and drop her overboard."

  "Now come on, you two," Joe admonished, "she's probably very nice." He ran a finger inside his shirt. "Hot in here." He took one sip from his drink, moving his weight from one foot to the other. "Wel , I suppose I should go meet the guest of honor."

  "Huh!" Gina commented as she watched her retreating husband.

  Just as Jenny was about to entreat Gina to stick by her for the evening, a mutual friend sailed over and grabbed the other woman by the arm. "Gina! I'm so glad you're here. That couple who moved in down the block from you last week is here, and they want to meet you. Jenny, do you want to be introduced, too?"

  "No, go ahead. I met them when we came in."

  Gina touched her arm as she departed. "Be back shortly."

  "Fine." Jenny tried
to fade into the woodwork, making herself as inconspicuous as possible, suddenly feeling lonelier and more shut off from the rest of humanity than she could ever remember feeling. Her eyes unwillingly moved to Ky and Larry and stuck.

  Larry seemed to arch over Ky, like the protective limb of a tree, and she sheltered herself in that protection, looking up at him with a radiant I-need-you expression, making him indispensable to her social success. She exuded a bewitching aura, and every line of Larry's body, every inch of his countenance, bespoke his enchantment. Jenny felt an overpowering sense of separateness. Larry no longer seemed like her husband.

  He seemed to be the handsome, attentive, elegant escort of this gorgeous, attentive, elegant woman. For the first time in fifteen years, Jenny felt her marriage significantly threatened.

  The time dragged by. She managed to carry on appropriately trifling conversations with other guests. Just as she began to doubt her staying power, she saw Hal Clemens arrive. She watched him as he was introduced to the radiant guest of honor. His reaction was one that would forever endear the man to Jenny. He shook hands with Ky, smiling absently, nodding in an unmistakable how-long-must-I-stand-here manner while Ky oohed and aahed over his academic accomplishments as recited by their host. Then as soon as he could break away, he made a beeline for Jenny.

  "I'm so very glad to see you here." He sounded like a man who had just been handed a reprieve. "Wil and Martha seemed quite set on my attending this bash—I've no idea why—and I couldn't for the life of me think of what I could talk about with these designer chaps."

  Jenny took his arm grateful y, a lifeline in a turbulent sea. "I'm glad to see you, too. What did you think of Miss Kayle?"

  "Who?" He searched about for a moment, his eyes final y settling on Ky. "Oh yes, the guest of honor, how sil y of me. Pretty girl." His attention immediately returned to Jenny. "Do I understand she's an old friend of yours?"

  "Not real y, she's actual y an old girlfriend of Larry's."

  "Real y. That so? Wel , I must say he was lucky to have found you, wasn't he."

  For the first time that evening, Jenny felt in imminent danger of weeping. She stared at Hal, her dark brown eyes wide and serious. "That's a very nice thing to say. Do you real y mean it?"

  He looked bewildered by the question. "Why of course I mean it. Why wouldn't I?"

  "But she's so beautiful."

  He turned and studied Ky as though searching for something he had missed before. "Why yes, that she is, but beauty is, like al else, relative. One enjoys visiting an art museum, for instance, but one would much prefer to live at home." On that somewhat obscure note, he grasped Jenny's arm and firmly propel ed her toward a sofa in a deserted alcove. "Now, wait until you hear about the choice bit of information I uncovered from a distinguished col eague of mine. It points the way to a whole new source for our research."

  To Jenny's intense relief, Hal completely monopolized her for the rest of the evening. They became so involved with their conversation, in fact, that it seemed a very short time before she became aware of Larry's standing in front of them saying, "So here you are. Just about everyone has left, and the rest are trying to decide where to go for dinner. Hal, will you join us?"

  Hal stood, shifting his feet uncertainly. "Oh, I'd best get back—"

  Jenny jumped up in time to interrupt his decision. She looked pleadingly into his eyes. "Hal, please?"

  She could almost see his sharp, intuitive mind process her request and come to a conclusion. "Wel , I suppose. Why not?"

  Larry put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. "Have a good time, hon? Nice party, wasn't it?"

  "Just terrific," she snapped at him, before hurrying off with Hal to join Martha and Wil , determined that Larry not see the hurt in her eyes.

  About a dozen of them trouped out to their cars to head for a nearby steakhouse. Martha walked out beside Jenny.

  "I told Wil he was indulging in wishful thinking." She chortled. "You never get rid of everyone after a cocktail party. But you know men: always so sure they're right!"

  But you know men. That statement rattled around in Jenny's head. She thought she had known one man, and look how mistaken she had been! Nothing in the world seemed sure to her now. She wouldn't place any bets on the probability that even though today was Friday, tomorrow would be Saturday.

  As they clumped together outside, Wil observed, "No need for everyone to take separate cars." He turned to Jenny and Hal. "Why don't you two come with us, and..." He walked around, organizing the rest. Jenny's heart sank as she noted that Ky was fol owing Larry to his car. To her relief, Wil suggested to Gina and Joe that they also share a ride with Larry. Jenny was stung by Larry's growing unawareness of her. Her pride dug in its heels, stubbornly determined to survive whatever might transpire. At least Hal stayed at her side. He seemed determined to stick close to the people he knew and avoid the "designer chaps."

  The conversation on the way to the restaurant was agony. Evidently honoring Jenny's confidence, Martha had not told Wil about the relationship involved, and Wil chattered on about the "charming Miss Kayle." "It certainly is refreshing to find a young woman who combines such stunning good looks with a razor-sharp mind. And she's such a pleasant, down-to-earth person to boot!"

  "Wil ," Martha cut in impatiently, "please shut up."

  Wil sounded genuinely hurt. "Why, Martha, surely you don't suspect me of any ulterior motives where Ky is concerned!"

  "No, I don't. Nevertheless, I have heard enough raving about that woman to last me a lifetime, so can we please talk about something else?"

  Bless you, Martha, Jenny thought. She was closing off the subject without involving Jenny. Jenny leaned back and closed her eyes, glad for the brief respite of silence in the car.

  Unfortunately, when they got to the restaurant, Hal was pul ed to the other end of the pushed-together tables to talk to a man who worked in television and had heard of the new interest in research. Jenny found herself squeezed in beside a man who ran a very exclusive, high-priced "beauty shop" based on the head-to-toe concept of Elizabeth Arden. On her other side was Wil , who was soon actively engaged in conversation with a fel ow accountant on his right. Now what? Jenny wondered, trying to force her eyes away from the sight of Ky and Larry being seated, oh-so-conveniently side by side, at the other end of the table. When they first sat down, Larry gave Jenny a little wave and a wink, but within minutes his attention was glued on Ky. Whenever she spoke to him she leaned very close, looking intently into his eyes, touching the back of his hand with her fingers. It was devastating to Jenny, and also, obviously in another way, to Larry.

  Jenny didn't know what to do. Should she heave the heavy glass ashtray at them instead of handing it to the waiter to take away? Or fal in a faint on the floor, necessitating at least some polite response to her condition from her otherwise occupied husband? She seemed to lack the energy to do anything but watch in mute agony.

  She became aware that the man on her left was attempting to start a conversation with her. Oh, what in heaven's name would she find in common with a beauty expert? Maybe she could offer to pose for a "before"

  ad. "Your name is Jennifer? Is that right?" The man was smal , probably not over five-foot-six, and slight, but he had a friendly expression, and a twinkle in his eye.

  "Yes, that's right. Most people cal me Jenny."

  "No, no, that's far too plain. You know, you have a marvelous bone structure. And those eyes!" He laughed.

  "Forgive me, I'm afraid I'm such a confirmed beautician that I find myself assessing everyone for possible improvement."

  She grimaced wryly. "Wel , I'm sure you're thinking you could start with A and work through to Z with me." My, my, her first excursion into self-pity.

  "Nonsense." The tone was cheery and factual. "I freely admit that some of you Boston ladies distress me. You seem determined to thwart my life's ambition to give nature a little boost. So many of you seem sure that makeup is a highly suspicious foreign substa
nce that is certain to contain skin-deteriorating ingredients. But I claim, here and now, that it is not so!"

  His good nature was infectious. Jenny found herself smiling at his extravagant language and florid gestures.

  "Indulge me, please." He put his forefinger under her chin and turned her head back and forth. "My dear, what I could do for that face!" He wrinkled his forehead in concentration. "You could be a knockout, instead of simply lovely."

  Jenny was grateful for what seemed to be genuine interest. She managed a smile. "Could you make me as beautiful as Ky Kayle?"

  He shook his head at her, as if reprimanding a child. "My dear, one of Ky's greatest strengths is knowing how to accent her differentness. You must never think of beauty as looking like someone else. The essence of real beauty is found in bringing out the very best of yourself. What I could make is a more beautiful Jennifer, who would, according to the eye of an individual beholder, be more or less beautiful than Miss Kayle."

  That brought a ful -fledged chuckle from Jenny.

  "Anyway," he continued, "here's my card. Screw up your sense of adventure some day and come to see me.

  And lest you consider this client-hustling, your visit wil be on the house."

  "Why, thank you." Jenny was overcome by the unexpected generosity. It couldn't have come at a better time.

  She spent much of the remaining time that it took to order and consume dinner explaining to this attentive, kindly companion the perilously violent nature of man.

  At long last the evening was over. Blessedly, before Larry could offer to drive Ky back to Boston, Martha jumped in and insisted that she and Wil would be happy to take her, cutting short any protest and ignoring the angry glances of her exhausted husband.

  Jenny and Larry drove home in silence, she staring unseeing out the window, and he humming a slow tune softly to himself. She didn't ask what the name of the song was, or why he was humming it. She didn't want to know. In fact, she didn't want to talk to him at al . She simply wanted to go home and to bed and to sleep.