by Jane Gentry
Which meant keeping her away from him. Not hard; Robert didn’t want her.
“I hope she doesn’t get anywhere near you,” said Elizabeth, “until she has a husband and three children, a house, four dogs, an established career and some sense.”
“Well, tell her that,” said Robert petulantly.
Robert could incite a saint to homicide, and Elizabeth was no saint. Somebody should have made him stand up to his responsibilities long ago—like his idiot mother, who fawned over him and believed everything he said. Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to do his dirty work.
“I will do no such thing, Robert,” said Elizabeth. “I refuse. You call her back tomorrow and explain it to her yourself. It’s your responsibility, and I’m not going to do it for you.”
“I don’t want to hurt her feelings,” said Robert.
“You think I do?” Elizabeth asked. “Anyway, I am not going to tell her you don’t want her. I think you’ve made it abundantly clear, but she’s too trusting to see it. You call her. If you don’t, I’ll get you on the phone myself and see that you talk to her.”
“You’ve gotten hard since you left me,” Robert said nastily. “You don’t seem to have any feeling anymore. No wonder you can’t get a man to love you.”
What a vicious, unprincipled pig.
“I mean it, Robert,” she said. “Call her tomorrow at nine-fifteen. That’s six-fifteen your time.”
“Or what?” Robert sneered. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Or I’ll call,” said Elizabeth. Blood roared in her ears. “And since I know what a heavy sleeper you are, that misguided little cretin in your living room will answer, and I will talk to her.”
There. Whoever said women couldn’t bluff?
They both hung up at the same time.
Elizabeth sat straight up in bed, seething, until the phone rang again. No breathless anticipation this time. She snarled her hello.
“What’d I do?” asked Steve, who heard the anger pulsing in her voice.
“You called an hour too late,” she said.
“Too late for what?”
“To forestall Robert, damn him!” she said. “He called.”
“To ask for a reconciliation?”
“Don’t be stupid,” she told him, still full of adrenaline and ready to fight. “And don’t try to joke. He’s joke enough for one evening. Cara called him to say she wanted to go to California, and he called me to tell her she couldn’t.”
“Why didn’t he tell her himself?”
“He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings!” Elizabeth raged. “Well, he’s not going to get away with it! He’ll have to tell her himself he doesn’t want her to come. I’ll be damned if I’ll be the heavy, even one more time!”
“Will he do that?” asked Steve. “Won’t he waffle?”
Elizabeth sank into her pillows. Her ears were no longer roaring, but the receding adrenaline left her with an awful headache.
“He’s not going to waffle on this one,” she said grimly. “I refuse to talk about him anymore. It just raises my blood pressure.”
“Want a minivacation?”
“Of course. Any vacation at all would be a relief.”
“Why don’t you and Cara ride the train into Manhattan early tomorrow? We’ll go to a matinee and have dinner, and I’ll bring you home.”
“You are a fool for punishment,” said Elizabeth.
“You don’t want to?”
“Of course I want to, Steve,” she said. “But spending the day with Cara dragging around refusing to enjoy herself doesn’t sound like any fun at all. I wish,” she continued plaintively, “I could do something about that.”
He could be desperate, he thought, if he let himself. Elizabeth found Cara’s opposition painful. How long would it be before she withdrew altogether, accepting a cold and present peace for the future happiness that he and Elizabeth could have together? It was too soon to say he loved Elizabeth, but it wasn’t too soon for him to know that he was falling in love, and doing it slowly, easily and irreversibly. And he didn’t want it to stop.
Something had to be done.
“I can understand that,” said Steve. “As much as I dislike it. Look, honey, why don’t you take her out to Lin’s, then, and let her get to know all the little Vorklands? Lin thinks she can bridge the gap. I vote we let her try.”
“It’s a thought,” said Elizabeth. “She loves babies and dogs.”
“See there?” said Steve. “Once she sees Sammy and John the Toothed Avenger, even Melody won’t be able to keep her away from them.”
“All right. Any port in a storm.” A new idea possessed her. If she couldn’t have Steve all day, she’d have the next best companion. “You want me to get Sammy for you? You can pick him up when you get home.”
Not only would she get Sammy for almost an entire day, she’d get to see Steve, if only for a minute. Maybe they could sneak a kiss behind the pantry door while Melody and Cara glared at each other in the den.
“Boy, you’re fickle,” Steve said, more than willing to employ Sammy as a binding tie.
“It was love at first sight,” Elizabeth told him. “I couldn’t help myself. It’s okay then, if I bring him home with me?”
“Certainly. Next time I leave town you can keep him, if you want to.”
“I’d adore it.” She envisioned Sammy munching on bagels, all fuzzy and warm on the hearth rug. “Does he like lox? I’ll lay in supplies. When will you be back?”
“As soon as I can,” said Steve. “I miss you, Libby. If we can find some suitably hidden place when I get home, I want a nice warm kiss, with nice warm you all cuddled up in my arms.”
“So do I,” said Elizabeth, and meant it absolutely. “And I miss you, too.” She wanted the man, she wanted the kiss. She wanted, she thought, much more than the kiss. But it was too soon for that. “The few kisses I’ve had have hardly been sufficient.”
“I’ll fix that problem,” Steve promised. “In the meantime, will you do what I tell you to?”
“Absolutely anything.” The truth.
“Are you all alone?”
All, all alone, and hating it.
“Yes. Cara’s asleep by now.”
“Where are you?”
“In bed, reading a good book.”
“In bed,” he said, and made it sound like a caress. “Put the book away.”
She did.
“Turn the light off and snuggle into your pillows.”
The pillow cupped around her head, holding it as firmly as a man’s warm hand. The down quilt drifted lightly under her chin.
“I’m snuggled,” she said.
“So am I,” said Steve. “On a big wide bed meant for two people. Tell me what you’re wearing.”
“A flannel nightgown.” A flannel nightgown which slid up past her thighs as she did as she was told.
“All ruffled and roomy?” Rough Rs as deep as a leopard’s growl.
“Plenty roomy.”
“Is there room enough for two in it?”
“More than enough.”
He was almost there beside her, gathering the yards of flannel in his clever fingers, pushing it above her hips, above her breasts, and tucking it there so he could free his hands to love her.
She heard him take a deep breath before he spoke. “Are you wearing anything else?”
“Panties,” she said.
“What kind?”
“Bikini panties.” Barely able to catch her breath. “Lace ones, black lace. But they’re very small. Not room enough for two.”
“Then they’ll just have to come off,” he said. Slow-burning words, wrapping her with heat. “Close your eyes and think about that.”
In her mind, his hands slipped under the thin elastic, lifted the lace from her hot skin, cupped around her hips and stripped the panties away.
A long pause. “Ready?” he said.
She was ready. Her whole body screamed it.
“Raise your right hand.” His voice was low and deep and pulsed through her like fire. “Now touch your fingers to your lips.”
She laid the tips of her fingers against her mouth, remembering his kiss, the taste of him. And the desire she wasn’t even trying to hold in check surged through her like a river.
“Now blow the kiss north toward Manhattan.”
She blew.
Steve waited a few seconds before he spoke again.
“I got it,” he said. Deep and audible physical passion passed wave by wave across the distance between them. “All hot and wet and just for me. Do you want one, too?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “And hurry.”
“Then here’s yours.” His voice sank to a whisper. “Reach for me, Elizabeth. I’m here, and you can touch me. Today and tomorrow and forever.”
She could actually feel his mouth on hers.
“Sweet dreams,” he said, and gently disconnected.
Dream? She couldn’t even sleep, after that. She picked up The Hail Mary Margin and continued to read.
Did Steve look at her the way Jord Varic looked at Mira? Or had that chivalric love disappeared with his divorce?
* * *
At seven she got out of bed in the wonderful, room- enough-for-two, ruffled flannel gown and went downstairs to have a cup of coffee and read the paper. Whenever she looked up from the news of the day, she could see Steve, sitting across the table from her, sharing the quiet dawn.
Finally she ran out of time for the pleasant fantasy and went to wake Cara and dress for church. She didn’t need to listen for the phone—she knew Robert would call. He didn’t want the young girls he dated to know that he had a daughter nearly as old as they were. Sure enough, he rang up at nine.
Cara knew he was calling and waited eagerly by the phone.
“Hi, Daddy!” she said. “Are you going to send me money?” Pause. “Oh, wow. Great!” Pause. “But I want to come now. Okay. When?” She sounded belligerent. “Well, where will you be?”
Robert must have done some fast talking, because Cara began to calm down. Damn it, thought Elizabeth. He tells her everything but the truth.
And so did she, she knew. Still—maybe she could keep juggling balls until Cara was old enough and distanced enough from Robert that the truth wouldn’t be so devastating.
Cara got off the phone. “He said I could maybe come around Christmas.”
“You know he’ll probably be too busy, honey,” said Elizabeth, handing Cara her coat.
“He promised not this time,” Cara said. “May we eat out after church?”
Elizabeth had already called Lin. “We’ve been invited to dinner,” she said.
“It’s not with stupid glophfy Melody Riker, is it?” said Cara suspiciously.
“She’s in New York, remember?” Elizabeth said. “I guarantee you’ll have a good time. And if you don’t hurry, you’re going to be late for Sunday School.”
On the way home from church, Elizabeth stopped at a bakery and bought two dozen bagels.
“We can’t eat all those,” said Cara.
“We’re having company tonight, and he likes bagels.”
“Mr. Riker?” Cara narrowed her eyes.
“Not Mr. Riker.”
“Mr. Salvini?”
“I never saw such a pronounced case of hope springing eternal.” Elizabeth grinned. “Not Mr. Salvini.”
“Who, then? Some man you have a date with?”
“You might say that,” said Elizabeth, enjoying the game. “I just met him yesterday. It was love at first sight.”
“What’s his name?”
“Samuel R. Canis.” Elizabeth knew that Cara would adore Lin and Tom and the entire menagerie, but only if she met them before she found out who they were.
“Is he Italian?” asked Cara, who obviously hadn’t been paying much attention in Latin class. “What does he look like?”
“Well, he has whiskers and a strawberry blond beard, and brown eyes and really bushy eyebrows and really curly hair. It’s hard to tell much else. You’ll see.”
“When’s he coming?”
“We’ve having lunch with his family. He’s riding back home with us.”
By the time they arrived at Lin’s, Cara was avid with anticipation. And the greeting, as they got out of the car, was an exact repeat of yesterday’s, plus Sammy. By the time Cara had sorted it out, she was captivated.
Her brow began to darken when she heard Lin’s name and clouded to thunder when she met Sammy.
Then Johnny toddled onto the porch and wrapped both arms around Cara’s legs.
“Me bite, me bite,” he said, looking up at her with a winning grin.
Cara picked him up. “Are you going to bite me?” she asked, charmed.
“No,” he said solemnly. He thought about it. “Bad Sandy,” he said darkly.
“This is big bad John,” Lin said. “We’re trying to wean him from the taste of human flesh. Unfortunately he finds biting useful for defense.”
“Maybe he likes it.” Cara bounced him in her arms as Lin led them into the house. “Does it taste like chicken, Johnny?”
Elizabeth, Tom and Lin all laughed, and Cara blushed and glowed at their appreciation of her first real grown-up witticism.
“That’s really funny,” said Lin. “How clever of you.”
“Maybe he’ll be too full to gnaw on Sandy’s arm after lunch,” said Tom. “Since we’re having chicken. Do you want coke or some hot chocolate?”
“Yes, please,” said Cara, sitting at the table. Johnny squirmed off her lap. “Hot chocolate.”
All four boys wanted hot chocolate, too.
“Git,” said Tom. “It’s too close to mealtime for you.” He shooed them up the stairs.
Cara was immensely flattered. She’d suddenly been promoted to the adult table, and she was determined to live up to it.
“I told them you were coming, Cara,” Lin said. “I’m afraid they’ll pester you to death, because they adore Melody. She likes little kids, and they take advantage of it.”
“I like them, too,” Cara said, for once not minding the comparison.
“Well, then, you won’t mind too much if they crawl all over you?”
Cara laughed. “Sammy and Miggy are crawling all over me, and I don’t mind that.”
Both dogs were trying to lick her face.
“They like you,” said Lin.
“That’s because I taste like chicken.”
Everybody laughed again. There was scant resemblance between the smiling, charming, entertaining girl in the Vorklands’ kitchen and the sullen little creature who slumped on the Harkness steps on Saturdays at noon. This was the Cara of the future, Elizabeth thought, and rejoiced.
“Miggy’s beautiful,” Cara told Lin. “How do you keep her so white?”
“She throws her in the wash when she bleaches the socks,” said Tom, setting a huge steaming cup in front of Cara.
Cara giggled. “How does she really do it?”
“I put bluing in the rinse water,” said Lin. She handed a stack of plates to Elizabeth, who spaced them around the long table.
Cara scratched under Miggy’s chin. Sammy took exception to this diverting of attention. He put his huge front paws in Cara’s lap and pushed his nose into her face.
“Aowrrr,” he complained.
Cara hugged him. He tried to get the rest of the way into her lap. He managed most of his forequarters and snuggled his head into her shoulder.
“Mworp,” he said, sounding satisfied.
“You’ve got that backward, Cara,” Tom told her. “You should sit in his lap.”
“He’s a precious, sweet, baby dog,” she announced, sounding exactly like her mother. “And he can sit on my lap if he wants to.”
“He’s big, all right,” said Lin. “A big crybaby. Just step on his toe—he whimpers for a week.”
“Here’s dinner,” said Tom, putting a bowl of chicken and dumplings on the table. “Let’s feed the
beasts and children.”
* * *
Sammy sat in the back seat of the car and draped his head over Cara’s shoulder. She kept one arm around his neck and chattered all the way home. Elizabeth hadn’t seen her so buoyant in a long time—since the first of the school year, in fact. Lin’s particular magic, Elizabeth thought gratefully.
She settled Cara and Sammy in front of the fire and cooked a frozen pizza. She and Sammy and Cara shared it. Then Sammy declared that the rug was too warm and the floor was too hard. He ambled to the couch and put one paw on the edge.
He glanced nervously at Elizabeth and slipped a second paw beside the first one. Then one back foot, seemingly of its own accord, joined the others. Sammy was astonished at its behavior; he looked at it with his mouth open.
Cara and Elizabeth held their sides, laughing.
Sammy collapsed on the couch.
“Murmph!” He sighed. He arranged himself comfortably and lowered his weary head to a throw pillow.
He didn’t even move when Steve and Melody rang the bell. He waited until they were completely in the house, with the door shut, before he sat up on the couch.
“Rarff!” he said joyously. He bounded across the room to say hello. Cara looked desolate until he galloped back to her and buried his face in her shirt.
She grinned at Steve. “He had pizza and bagels for dinner.”
Then she sat on the floor, as far from Melody as she could get without actually moving into the kitchen. Sammy shuttled anxiously between the two girls until he was tired of it, then he stopped equidistant between the separate poles and sank to the floor.
Cara and Melody inched imperceptibly toward him—his fuzzy teddy-bear looks were a magnet. Elizabeth surfed through the TV channels until she found a teen flick. The girls needed something to focus their attention off each other while she focused her attention on Steve.
He raised his eyebrows at her, and she beckoned with her head. He followed her into the kitchen.
Once they were behind the wall, he dipped his head and kissed her quickly.