On Love's Own Terms

by Fran Baker

  “Don’t keep punishing yourself when it probably wasn’t even your fault,” Darlene pleaded. “Listen, not long ago I read an article by a doctor saying miscarriages happen often in first pregnancies—they’re a natural screening process with no known treatment to prevent them. He also wrote that the emotional complications are generally much worse than the physical.”

  “I certainly confirm that theory.” Bonnie sighed heavily.

  “Luke did, too,” Darlene added bluntly. “For a long time after you left, he acted like a crazy man. When he wasn’t two-fisting his way around town, he was holed up in that little house you had rented. He seemed to be shutting out the world and everyone who cared. Even though he’s dated other women since, he’s never gotten over you.”

  Hearing his reaction described so vividly, Bonnie realized how selfish and immature she had been in assuming that the loss was hers alone. Her mind whirled with regrets. Could she ever make it up to him? Why hadn’t they talked it out between them?

  “This doctor’s term for couples mourning a miscarriage was the walking wounded, because they tend to bottle up their grief and their feelings of failure rather than discuss them,” Darlene continued. “It’s an excellent article, full of new information. I’m sure the magazine is still around here somewhere if you want to read it.”

  Bonnie nodded and wiped her eyes with the tissue that Darlene had pressed into her hand. Relief at having shared part of her guilt for the first time ever mingled with the warm certainty that she’d gained a friend. She looked at her sister and couldn’t contain the sudden, lighthearted spurt of laughter burbling in her throat. “Aren’t we a pretty, pink-eyed pair?”

  “Too bad teardrops aren’t pennies. We’d have our pockets full.” Darlene smiled in watery chagrin. “Dave says I’ve got a maudlin streak a mile wide. Much as I hate to admit it, he’s right.”

  “You just tell him it’s a time-honored family tradition,” Bonnie ordered pertly. “Some clans have good teeth; the Sob Sisters have well-drained sinuses.”

  A honking horn interrupted their chat.

  “I’d better scoot before Dave comes after me.” Darlene hugged Bonnie once more for good measure. “He’s anxious to get the furniture moved into Atlanta this week so we won’t have that hanging over our heads after the honeymoon.”

  “Can I help?’ Bonnie offered.

  “Later, maybe,” Darlene hurried across the room. “Today, we’re just taking what the two of us can handle.” She rolled her eyes in mock disgust. “His van is loaded to the gills! I only hope there’s room inside for me.”

  “I’ll stay here and make out my grocery list for the reception,” Bonnie decided.

  “Good idea,” Darlene agreed as she opened the door.

  “Wait!” Bonnie stopped her sister halfway into the hall and pointed to the dress draped across her bed. “I’ll hang it in your room and put the shoes in your closet.”

  Darlene grinned impishly. “If Dave starts working too hard this afternoon, I’ll warn him to save some strength for tonight.” Her expression grew serious. “Thank you, Bonnie. That talk means more to me than a thousand wedding presents.”

  A lump lodged in Bonnie’s throat, so she acknowledged her sister’s sentiment and her own gratitude with a radiant smile.

  Two impatient blasts from Dave’s horn sent Darlene scurrying out the door. After Bonnie placed the dress in her sister’s room, she went downstairs. Eerie quiet greeted her, and she presumed that Luke had accompanied Dave and Darlene to Atlanta. If he’d stayed, maybe they could have had their long overdue talk and cleared the air about how her miscarriage had affected both of them.

  The fresh-brewed aroma of coffee beckoned her into the kitchen. She poured herself a cup, then sat at the table with pen and paper. Since planning menus was her stock-in-trade, the chore went rather quickly.

  Now what? She carried her cup to the sink and rinsed it. Last night’s dishes were stacked haphazardly in the plastic drainer. Who’d washed them? There was a merry twinkle in her eyes as she put the dinnerware into the cabinets. But the notion that Luke was in immediate danger of getting dishpan hands was more amusing than plausible. She could count on one hand the number of times that he’d helped her in the kitchen during their marriage.

  That done, Bonnie removed the rural directory from a drawer and dialed her friend Sueanne’s telephone number. When she didn’t get an answer after ten rings, she hung up the receiver. So much for that idea.

  More from habit than hunger, she perused the contents of the refrigerator. Lifting the foil lids off several bowls, she wrinkled her nose. Darlene’s leftovers resembled badly botched scientific experiments. But recalling how as a bride she’d resented comments on her housekeeping, Bonnie emptied out the worst of it and took a vow of silence. If anyone actually had the stomach to inquire about the missing food, she’d simply explain that she’d made room for the reception dishes and let it go at that.

  Standing at the sink while the disposal finished gobbling the garbage, Bonnie gazed out the window. A long, lean shadow near the tool shed caught her eye, and her heart lurched wildly when Luke rounded the corner of the small outbuilding.

  Stripped to the waist, he was a hard-muscled sight to behold. Broad shoulders and a rock-solid chest tapered into a flat stomach and narrowed hips. As he spread a dropcloth and then crouched to smooth it over the lush spring grass, sunbronzed skin rippled an enticing invitation to Bonnie’s tingling fingertips.

  He carried four unfinished ladder-backed chairs from the shed and set them on the dropcloth, working with an easy rhythm rare in a man his size. A woman’s heat smoldered deep inside her. Luke had a knack for pacing that Bonnie remembered exquisitely well. Even sowing passion’s first seeds, he had tempered youthful urgency with a tender skill belying his inexperience. He’d never hurried—always seeing to her satisfaction before taking his own.

  Turning the chairs upside down, Luke carved grooves with a penknife into the base of each wooden leg.

  Watching him, Bonnie felt a surge of emotion which ultimately clouded her eyes. He had made these chairs for the kids, using his unique talent to create a gift of love that would serve them well the rest of their days.

  The clatter of the garbage disposal signaled it had finally emptied. She silenced it with a flick of the switch, turned off the tap water, then went out the back door and across the yard.

  He saw her approaching and smiled. Much as a lover’s fingers would, the breeze mussed his thick hair. She fought a madcap urge to run to him and rumple it properly. Their shadows entwined in the grass although they stood slightly apart when she stopped.

  “Just what I need—an extra pair of hands,” he greeted.

  “Ask and you shall receive,” she quipped.

  Luke’s glance boldly skimmed the swell of her breasts beneath the camisole. Bonnie flushed, knowing she’d left herself vulnerable for a cheap shot. To her relief, he didn’t take it.

  “I really could use your help.” He nodded in the direction of the overturned chairs. “They weren’t sitting square enough to suit me when I tried them out this morning. If you’d hold them steady while I shave a bit more off the back legs, it would save me having to put them into the vise again.”

  “Sure.” She skirted the edge of the dropcloth, knelt and gripped the one he’d been whittling when she’d interrupted him. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  They made quite a team. Bonnie stabilized the frames while Luke measured, marked and trimmed the legs.

  Constructed of hard maple with seats woven with white oak splits, the chairs were built to last a lifetime. They were sturdy, comfortable and beautiful, she pronounced after testing them for wobbles. His glowing eyes showed his pride and justifiably so.

  It only seemed natural that she help him stain them, too. Luke scrounged around and located another brush. Bonnie borrowed the work shirt he’d hung on a nail, rolled up the sleeves and wore it as a smock. After tying his red bandana around her golden hair, she
slipped out of her sandals and wiggled her bare toes in the grass. Looking at her get-up, he just grinned.

  While they worked, they talked, recapturing the platonic friendship of their youth. Old identities receded in the heat of the afternoon sun and the warmth of conversation. They weren’t former spouses; they were friends. As such, they shared the task as well as the satisfaction of seeing it through to the end.

  The staining done, Bonnie returned his work shirt and bandana before retrieving her sandals. Luke put the brushes to soak in turpentine, then set the chairs inside the shed to dry. They headed into the house where she prepared a pitcher of iced tea and he began thawing the steaks he intended to cook for dinner. Fixing sandwiches no sane person would look at twice, much less eat, they devoured the double-decker monstrosities with vulgar speed.

  Content beyond description, Bonnie poured each of them a second glass of tea and made a few additions to her grocery list. Luke sat and smoked a cigarette. The silence wasn’t a bit awkward. Words weren’t necessary.

  Neither of them knew in the waning light of a wonderful day that the calm merely preceded another storm.

  “I guess I’d better plan on spending tomorrow in Atlanta.” Bonnie folded her list and propped it against the plastic napkin holder in the center of the table. “According to Darlene, the market here doesn’t stock even half of what I need.”

  “I’ll take you,” Luke volunteered.

  “I thought I’d just go in with the kids and do my shopping while—”

  “There won’t be room in Dave’s van for you, because they’re moving the dining room buffet,” he said. “Anyway, I have to drop by my office and sign some bids we’re submitting on future projects.” He smiled in a most disarming way. “Unless you relish the idea of riding to town in a silverware drawer tomorrow morning, I’m your next best bet.”

  “Okay,” she conceded, “but I want to see their new house.”

  “You will,” he promised. “In fact, I should stop by there anyway and see how the construction crew is coming along with the finishing touches. I’ve been working them overtime so it will be ready for Darlene and Dave right after their honeymoon.”

  “Do you think they realize how lucky they are?”

  “I doubt it”

  “It’s partially our fault if they don’t,” she remarked softly.

  “I suppose.” He seasoned his gruff admission with a smile.

  Bonnie stared into space, her mind’s eye focused on the bungalow where she’d lived with Luke. How proud they had both been the day they’d signed the rental agreement! Regret burned in her heart. They’d taken immediate possession, but they had never managed to make their little house into a real home. Near tears, she pushed away from the table.

  Luke grabbed her wrist, his thumb gently caressing the pulse point. “Let’s go upstairs and make some better memories, Bonnie.”

  She shook her head. He didn’t accept her denial. In one agile motion he stood and pulled her up with him. Taking her other wrist, he lifted her arms and locked them around his neck before enveloping her in his embrace. Her breathing was shallow as their bodies came together in a perfect fit.

  Something old sparked something new, a fragile flame of restraint that heightened the anticipation. His mouth teased hers, sampling its sweetness without fully tasting of it. She parted her lips, inhaling his breath and feeling its warmth fill her senses. He fed his hunger with tender love bites, torturing her until she could take no more. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest as she pressed closer, demanding the satisfaction of his kiss.

  “God!” he growled. “I want you so much, it hurts.”

  Wordlessly, Bonnie told Luke of her own consuming ache. She rose up on tiptoe and drew his head down. Her small show of aggression produced the results she desired.

  Their mouths met and mated. His tongue sought her secrets, exploiting them with her consent. Her fingers weaved through his hair, its texture soft against her skin. Their deliciously heated exchange deepened into an act of love.

  The kitchen clock cuckooed, its timing atrocious.

  “The kids!” she remembered breathlessly.

  “What?” he murmured into her mouth.

  In a panic, she leaned away from his hard length and glanced toward the far wall. The mechanical bird squawked its last, then disappeared. If only she could disappear with it! “The kids—they’re due back any minute.”

  “So?”

  Bonnie broke free of his hold and fumbled to raise the camisole straps he’d deftly slipped off her shoulders.

  “What if they walked in on us?”

  “We’re not exactly strangers,” he reminded her dryly.

  Her guilty conscience provoked an angry tone. “We weren’t setting a very sterling example for them, either.”

  “What happens between us is none of their damned business,” he gritted. Frustration blazed unchecked in his eyes as he reached to embrace her again.

  Bonnie dodged around the end of the table, eluding his arms. What a hypocrite she must seem—lecturing him yesterday about love versus lust, then melting in his arms today.

  Tall, dark and clearly dissatisfied, Luke didn’t appear readily inclined to forgive her lapse. Actually he looked rather ruthless, barring her access to the swinging doors to the dining room with his broad frame.

  Just then, Dave’s van wheezed into the drive alongside the house. Her legs went limp as wet noodles.

  “This must be your lucky day, darlin’,” Luke drawled. He stepped away from the swinging doors, allowing her safe passage from the kitchen. “I only hope you realize that you’re getting off the hook a lot easier than you deserve.”

  Embarrassment stained her cheeks. Although she didn’t stand a chance of saving face, Bonnie squared her shoulders and started past him. As she reached out to push through the doors, Luke grabbed her arm and stopped her short

  “Next time,” he warned, “I intend to see that you make good on your promises.”

  “Is that a threat?” she bristled.

  “No.” He released her. “That’s a promise.”

  She blanched, knowing he meant business. Annoyed with both of them, she rushed out of the kitchen and ran upstairs.

  It was an impossible situation, she mused while she showered. The two of them were like flint and stone—sparks flew everywhere when they came together. She took a jade-colored cotton jumpsuit out of her closet and zipped into it. How long before they created a fire that destroyed everyone around them, including Darlene and Dave?

  “Next time.” Bonnie repeated Luke’s words as she tied an obi sash around her slender waist and brushed her hair into a golden silk cloud in front of the mirror.

  There would be no next time. Drawing several deep breaths, Bonnie rehearsed the request she meant to make of Luke. He’d offered to return to Atlanta until Saturday, and she was going to take him up on it. What if he refused? Doubt pinched her features.

  She studied her reflection soberly. It was speak now or hold her tongue and walk on eggs the rest of the week.

  She marched downstairs, her heart doing double-time.

  Darlene had set the kitchen table, and now stood staring out the window over the sink, watching Luke and Dave tending the grill on the brick patio.

  “What’s wrong?” Bonnie asked worriedly when her sister turned and exposed the tears streaming freely down her face.

  “Nothing.” Darlene smiled bashfully. “I was just thinking how happy mama and daddy would be to see the four of us together again, and...” She hiccupped and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Bonnie’s strength of purpose sputtered like a candle in the wind as she embraced her sister. “If it makes you feel better to cry, have at it.”

  Darlene buried her face in Bonnie’s shoulder. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come home if you knew Luke would be here, too. But Dave insisted I tell you the truth and let you decide.”

  “Why, I wouldn’t
have missed your wedding for the world,” Bonnie declared honestly. “You’re all the family left to me.”

  When she raised her head, Darlene’s eyes glowed with joy. “I’m so glad we could all be reunited like this.”

  “Me, too,” Bonnie echoed faintly. Had she really said that?

  Darlene hugged her fiercely, then let her go. “You’ll just never know how much it means to Dave and me that you and Luke are spending this wonderful week with us.”

  Gritting her teeth, Bonnie managed the semblance of a smile.

  “I’m going upstairs to take my bath,” Darlene said, recovering her composure as she headed through the swinging doors. “Won’t Dave be surprised when he sees me wearing your sundress?”

  Alone in the kitchen, Bonnie removed the salad greens from the refrigerator. She stood at the sink, stemming fresh spinach and slicing mushrooms. Though twilight tinted the world outside her window, she had no difficulty distinguishing Luke’s masculine silhouette against the deep purple sky.

  She couldn’t ask him to leave; the kids would be crushed.

  Luke swung an imaginary baseball bat with the grace of a natural athlete, and her heart soared with the rising moon. Why was it that the only man who stirred her was the same man who’d scarred her? He threw back his head, laughing at something she couldn’t see, and her memory strayed to those innocent years when they’d shared every secret—whether silly or serious. She couldn’t show him the door, she didn’t want him to leave.

  Chapter 4

  Dinner was simple yet superb. Luke had grilled their steaks to perfection, remembering without asking that Bonnie preferred hers medium rare. Crispy on the outside and butter-melting fluffy inside, his charcoaled potatoes were delicious. And everyone agreed that Bonnie’s salad tasted as scrumptious as spring.

  “I’m stuffed,” Darlene groaned and pushed her plate away. “At the rate you two are feeding me, I’m going to outgrow my wedding dress before Saturday.”