by Vickie Hall
“How’s Baby Girl? Any chance I could see her?”
How could she turn away from him when everything in her was screaming for him? “Sure,” she said, finding an empty pint-sized Mason jar. “Let me just get these in some water.”
Glen touched her arm and Bonnie felt an electric jolt shoot through to her heart. I have to do this…I have to…
“I wanted to call you,” Glen said, his voice lowered so Don and Irene couldn’t hear. “But I was afraid you’d think I was some predator or something. Fact is, I wanted to talk to you the minute I got home Sunday night. It was all I could do to keep from calling.”
Bonnie looked at him, felt her heart fill with yearning. “Did you?”
He moved closer, and she could feel his breath against her cheek. Her heart quickened with his closeness. She gazed into his chestnut colored eyes and lost herself in them.
Glen brushed his hand across her cheek. His voice was husky as he spoke. “And I wanted to call you last night and the night before…I wanted to hear your voice, and finally tonight I couldn’t stand it any longer…I had to see you.”
Bonnie felt the battle within her coming to an end. She surrendered herself to his closeness, his heated gaze, his tender words. Her fingers gently stroked his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed her palm. Nothing else seemed to matter—nothing but him. There was no past to consider, only the present—only Glen.
Bonnie linked her arms around his neck and drew into him, pressing her body against his. “I’ve been thinking of you, too,” she whispered beside his ear. “Every minute…”
His arms tightened around her, pulling her against his muscled form. “Have you?” he murmured, his hands now coming up to capture her face. “I never thought this could happen…I didn’t think I’d…”
Bonnie closed the distance between them with her lips, drawing him in, capturing his hunger for her, her own appetite now raging. With her heart drumming in her ears, Bonnie eased back, tried to catch her breath. She felt light-headed. “We should slow down,” she panted against his chest. “It’s all moving too fast…”
“You’re right,” he said, nuzzling her hair as his hands slid along her back, then around to her shoulders. “But I can’t stop myself. I want to be with you every minute of every day…”
Bonnie pushed back, stepping away though all she wanted was to burrow in against him. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. There was so much he didn’t know, so much he should know about her, yet it all seemed so inconsequential now. He wanted her anyway, and that single fact drove away every rational thought she had. “We need to make sure this is more than a physical attraction,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temple, forcing herself to think. “We hardly know each other.”
Glen smiled softly and caressed her face. He gazed into her eyes as if he could read her thoughts. “They say when you meet the love of your life, you know it…not in months or years, but in seconds.”
In seconds, she thought. Yes, the second she saw him walk through the door…a total stranger and yet more familiar to her than any human being alive. How was it possible? But she knew it, couldn’t question or doubt how she felt anymore. It wasn’t one of her manufactured lies, her pretending to experience something. It was real. It was indisputable and made her feel alive, as if she’d just been born, had never lived a single moment before Glen.
“Seconds…” she whispered.
He held up his hands now and stepped back. “But I don’t want to rush you. I want us to be sure it’s for the long run, Bonnie, because that’s what Iwant…you and me for as long as we live.”
She’d have thought him crazy if any other man had said that to her. But it didn’t even seem outlandish, these words coming from a man she barely knew. “Yes,” she finally said, not knowing just what her answer meant.
Glen smiled and gathered her hands in his. He kissed her fingers and gave her his dimpled smile, sending a wave of joy through Bonnie’s core. “I want to take you out to dinner on Saturday. We’ll go someplace nice. I’ll even wear a suit.”
Bonnie angled into him, raising her face to look into his eyes. “A suit,” she said with a softened laugh. “Well, now…”
His eyes locked on to hers and he kissed her fingers again. “I want you to know I’m not a fool. This is real, Bonnie, and I know what I’m doing. I don’t want you to think this is some wild idea I have because I’ve been gone for three years, or because of the war, or because—”
Bonnie pulled a hand free and pressed her fingers to his lips. “It’s real for me, too. And no, none of it makes sense, but I don’t care.”
He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’d better go. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“At seven,” she whispered.
Glen kissed her on the forehead and then lightly on the lips. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
He didn’t budge, but ringed her waist with his arms. “I should go.”
“Probably.”
“I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Uh-huh…”
He leaned in to kiss her again. Bonnie let out a throaty laugh and eased him away. “Iguess I’ll go,” he said, pulling free of her.
Bonnie felt a sweet ache rise in her throat as he turned to leave the kitchen. She followed, but didn’t touch him, afraid it would only prolong their goodbye again.
Irene gave Bonnie a mischievous grin over her knitting as she emerged from the kitchen. “I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer if you’d like to stay, Glen. Maple nut…”
Glen smiled and kissed his aunt on the cheek. “I’d better not, but thanks. I’ll see you later.”
Don turned down the radio and waved. “Take care, Glen. Say hi to your dad for me.”
“Sure thing,” he replied, reaching for the front door.
He stepped across the threshold and turned back to face Bonnie. He brought his hand up to her face and cupped her cheek. “Bye,” he said letting his fingers trail across her skin.
Bonnie smiled and waited until he’d reached his car and got in before she shut the door. ///////
Friday and Saturday were agonizingly long. Bonnie wondered what Glen was doing every minute of the day, wished she could be with him, yearned to hear his voice. She’d pushed aside all caution now, wanting to take whatever he offered. This was a chance to have something real and normal, something she never dreamed would be within her grasp. If she could make a life with Glen, she was going to take the opportunity. If she could have anything remotely like the relationship Irene and Don shared, she was determined to have that too.
When Glen arrived, she felt her heart flutter as he stepped through the door. He had on a charcoal gray suit, a pale blue shirt, and a bold geometric-patterned tie with bits of blue, white, and yellow. His shoes were shiny black loafers, and he sported a new fedora of dark gray felt. The tip of a peaked yellow handkerchief inched out of the front breast pocket of his suit. Bonnie felt herse lf gasp at the dashing sight of the man before her.
His dimpled smile glowed back at her. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You look amazing,” he said, stepping back to take her in.
Don and Irene hovered just behind Bonnie. Irene held her hands clasped together in front of her waist, eyeing the young couple with a beaming smile. “Oh, I wish I had film in the Kodak.”
“They’re not going to the prom,” Don said under his breath.
“You two have a wonderful night,” Irene said as Glen helped Bonnie on with her coat.
“Thanks, we will.” Bonnie flashed a smile.
Glen escorted Bonnie to his father’s car and opened the door for her. He stopped her before she entered, took her by the arms, and reeled her in. He kissed her, leaned back, and smiled. “Now you can get in,” he said with a grin.
Bonnie touched his face and gave him an affectionate smile. “Imissed you.”
“Not half as much as I missed you.” Glen offered his hand as she slid into the front seat.
G
len started the car and pulled away from the curb. “I had an interesting meeting yesterday,” he said with a cheerful sound in his voice, “about a job.”
“I thought you were going to school,” Bonnie said.
“Oh, I am, but I still need a job. My dad hooked me up with the son of one of his friends from work. He’s in the insurance business.” Glen glanced at Bonnie for a second. “Did you know he issued a policy out on a prize-winning horse? A horse. Can you imagine?”
Bonnie laughed. “How can you insure a horse?”
“I don’t know, but I guess you can.” Glen shrugged. “Andrew, that’s the insurance guy, said he could insure just about anything.”
Bonnie nodded. “I heard Betty Grable’s legs are insured for a million dollars.”
“See? I guess you can insure almost anything.” Glen chuckled. “So, anyway, Andrew needs some help because his business has grown so much lately. For now, it’s mostly filing and organizing for him, answering the phone and things like that. But he wants me to learn more so I can help people who call or come in if he’s busy. He gave me stacks of papers I need to read to learn about the different types of policies, how to read actuary tables, and all sorts of things.”
“What’s an actuary table?”
“It’s a table that shows the probability of a person at a certain age dying before their next birthday. It’s pretty interesting, really. There’s a lot of mathematical calculation involved, probabilities, risk factors, all sorts of things. There’s a lot more to insurance than I thought.”
“You sound pretty excited about it,” she commented.
He gave another shrug. “I guess. Anyway, I start on Monday, and Andrew is willing to work with my school schedule once I start.”
Bonnie touched his arm and smiled. “I think it sounds great,” she said.
Glen grinned. “Say, what are you doing all the way over there?”
Bonnie glanced at the distance between them and sidled up next to him. Glen wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “That’s better,” he said and kissed her temple.
They drove for a little while contented in the quiet. Bonnie sighed softly and rested her hand on his thigh. She felt so comfortable with him, as if they belonged together and to no one else. If she never lived another moment, she’d be happier now than in all the years before combined.
“You know something?” Glen asked. “When I was growing up, I always felt a little alone. Ihad my brother, and we got along pretty well, but I still felt alone. It’s kind of funny when you think about it. How can you feel alone when you’re always around people? But I did. It was like there was something missing inside. It got worse after my mom died. I just withdrew…sort of shut myself off. I guess that’s why I didn’t like going to school much, didn’t go out much. I figured if I was going to feel alone, I might as well be alone.” He kissed her on the temple again. “Now, I don’t feel like that at all…not since I met you.”
Bonnie knew exactly what he meant. She didn’t feel alone either. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she belonged to something, to someone, and that she would never be alone again. “Irene told me about what happened to your mama,” she said softly.
Glen gripped the steering wheel harder. “I’d come home from school, expecting to find her in the kitchen, like always.” His voice thinned and sounded hollow. “She wasn’t there and I saw the door to the cellar open so I remembered, I was supposed to clean the clinkers out of the coalburning furnace. She’d asked me to do it before I left for school that morning, but I gave her some excuse and sort of got mad at her for reminding me again.” He shuddered. “I was the one who found her, lying at the bottom of the stairs, her neck twisted back, her eyes open.”
He flexed his grip against the steering wheel again and kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “I knew she’d gone down to do my job, to clean out the furnace. Everyone tried to tell me it was an accident. She could have gone downstairs for a bottle of peaches, or to collect the drying clothes on the winter clothesline. But Iknew it was my fault she was dead.”
Bonnie felt her emotions well to the surface, feeling so sorry for Glen that she wished she could take away his pain. “I sort of felt responsible for my mama, too. I mean, I couldn’t get her to leave my father. She stayed even after I left. I begged her to come to Omaha, told her I’d pay her way here.” Bonnie fell quiet and closed her eyes against the tears that began to form. “I failed her and now she’s dead.”
“No… no…” Glen replied, his voice filled with empathy. He pulled to the curb, set the brake, and turned to face her. He took her hands and held them tight. “Bonnie, you didn’t fail her. She chose to stay. It wasn’t your fault.”
Bonnie blinked back her tears, the yellow shaft of street light illuminating the inside of the car with a pale glow. Maybe he was right. Maybe she hadn’t failed her mother so much as her mother had failed herself. And then she thought about Glen’s mother, knew Glen hadn’t failed her, either. “It wasn’t your fault your mama went downstairs, Glen. You can’t hold yourself responsible for that. You’ll never really know why she went down there, just as I’ll never know why my mama couldn’t find the courage to leave.” She bit her bottom lip, then looked at him in the watery light. “Blame doesn’t undo what’s been done. We need to let it go.”
Glen took her face in his hands, pressed his forehead to hers. “Oh, Bonnie…why couldn’t I have met you years ago?”
His voice was soft and filled with a bittersweet pain that touched Bonnie’s soul. She kissed him, a tender kiss meant to comfort him, to speak to him of her understanding. Her arms encircled his neck. All the years of aching loneliness were gone from her, all the ugliness seemed to slip away. She kissed him again. “Don’t ever leave me, Glen. Promise me,” she whispered.
“Never…I’ll never leave you, Bonnie.” He brushed his fingers over her brow, traced the li ne of her jaw. “Not as long as I live.”
///////
Bonnie was surprised to see Irene still up when she came home. She was sitting in her chair knitting, counting stitches as Bonnie entered. “You’re up late,” Bonnie said quietly.
Irene sighed and lowered her knitting to her lap. “Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Sit down and tell me about your evening.”
Bonnie took off her coat, laid it over the arm of the sofa and sat down. “We had a wonderful dinner,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Glen ordered a bottle of wine and we talked and talked. He held my hand across the table…we laughed…it didn’t seem like any time had passed until the waiter finally told us they were going to close soon. I guess Glen felt a little guilty and gave the waiter an especially large tip for taking up one table most of the evening.”
“Sounds like you two are really hitting it off,” Irene said, pushing her knitting down on the needle to put it away. “I’m glad. It’s good to see you so happy.”
Bonnie lowered her gaze. For a moment, she felt a flash of worry skittered through her mind. “I am happy, Irene, for the first time in my life.” She raised her face. “It scares me to death. I haven’t had a lot of good things happen in my life, and I’m so afraid of losing it.”
Irene moved forward in her chair. “Losing it? Why do you think that?”
Bonnie shook her head, pressed a palm to her forehead. “Because I don’t deserve it,” she admitted softly. “I’ve done things…” She stopped herself, steeled her determination.
Irene’s voice was tender, maternal, as she reached across and took hold of Bonnie’s hand. “Listen to me. You deserve to be happy. Everyone does. If Glen makes you happy, then you grab on to that and don’t let go.” Irene shook Bonnie’s hand as if to drive some sense into her. “Let the past stay there, Bonnie. Whatever’s happened, whatever makes you think you don’t deserve to be happy, leave it back there. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Bonnie wanted to believe Irene, wanted to think she deserved to be happy. “It’s just—”
“No,” Irene said firmly, shaking Bon
nie’s hand again. “You want to know what I see?” She smiled and drew Bonnie’s gaze to hers. “I see something in you I’ve never seen before. I see a light shining in your eyes that wasn’t there until you met Glen. And I see the same thing in him. I think you two have been a little lost up until now, and now that you’ve found each other, you belong to something special. Am I right?”
Bonnie’s worry began to dissolve. She couldn’t help the smile that began to soften her mouth. “Yes.”
“All right then,” Irene said, coming to her feet and bringing Bonnie with her. “You hold on to that man with everything you’ve got. Trust him, Bonnie. He won’t let you down, I promise.”
Bonnie prayed Irene was right, hoped it was all true. Hadn’t she endured enough heartache to last a lifetime? Wasn’t it her turn to enjoy some happiness? Couldn’t it be different just this once? “I will,” she said, falling into Irene’s embrace. “I’ll trust him with my life.”
Chapter 21
Sunday dinner was over. Most of the Orton family lounged in the living room or sat outside, having stuffed their bellies full of roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, fresh-baked rolls, and apple pie for desert. Bonnie washed dishes while Glen dried. It seemed to be a weekly event, Bonnie insisting that the other women enjoy time away from the clean-up. They might have suspected that it was a good excuse to have more time alone with Glen, not that she couldn’t find other ways to be alone with him. She actually enjoyed their little routine, her washing, him drying, talking quietly together, just the two of them. It made Bonnie feel connected to Glen in a strange, domestic sort of way. She could imagine them standing in a kitchen of their own some day, years and years from now, washing dishes together just as they were now.
“Do you know what Peggy told me this afternoon?” Bonnie asked with a whimsical smile. “Little four-year-old Peggy?”
Glen curled the dishcloth into a glass and smiled. “What?”
“She told me words were shooting out of her toes.” Bonnie paused in her washing, cocked her head, and laughed. “Can you imagine? Words shooting out of her toes?”