Read After the Loving Online

Authors: Gwynne Forster

After the Loving (16 page)

“Why don’t we run into Eagle Park and ice-skate for a while?” she whispered. “You could use a change of environment.”

He had to be certain. “You know what happened in here a few minutes ago?”

She nodded. “I was standing in the doorway.”

“And?”

“I believe you. Every word you said. You would never knowingly do anything dishonorable. Come on and let’s go skate.”

He turned toward his brothers. “We’re going into Eagle Park to the skating rink. See you in a couple of hours.”

“Wait a minute,” Drake said. “You’re going
where?
” He repeated it. Drake got up and walked over to Velma. “Have you been sprinkling some kind of dust over my brother? He’s taken to laughing like it’s going out of style, bops at the Silvertone, and now, he’s going ice-skating.”

She gazed up at Drake, her face shrouded in innocence. “Where do you find that dust you’re talking about? I can definitely use some. This man isn’t easy to handle. What’s the name of it?”

At the look of confusion on Drake’s face, priceless and real, Russ’s throat rumbled with mirth, and the more Drake stared at her, the harder he struggled to contain it.

“Damn,” Drake said, and Russ let the laughter roll out of him.

Telford leaned against the back of the sofa and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “If you ask me, it’s Brighton dust, and she’s not the first person to spread it around.”

“Maybe I ought to thank God there’re only two of ’em,” Drake said.

“Wrong,” Russ said. “I would think you’d be sorry there
aren’t three. After all, you already know that this pattern is unbeatable.” He eased his left arm around Velma’s waist and walked with her to her room.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take me to clear myself of these charges. If she doesn’t meet me at the courthouse, I’ll have to sue her, and I don’t know where she lives.”

“Don’t worry about that. I saw her license plate, and it’s INP 2003. Must be her car, since the plate had her initials.”

He pulled her into his arms. “If I kissed you like I want to right now, I’d probably cause a spontaneous combustion.”

“Oh, honey. Give in to it, and let’s see what happens.”

With her lips warm, welcoming, glistening and beckoning him, heat plowed through him and with a hoarse groan, he slipped his tongue through her parted lips. She pulled him into her, firing his passion with the sucking motion that he knew would one day catapult him into ecstasy. Her breasts began rubbing across his chest while her hips undulated against him. Nearing full arousal, he kicked the door open, stepped inside the room with her and closed the door with his foot.

“I want you more than I want to breathe, but I know that if I bury myself deep inside of you, I won’t want to walk away. I’m not going to settle for less than I know we could have together, and for that we need a bare, no-holds-barred discussion. Do you understand?” Her body quivered, and he closed his eyes as desire pelted him.

“Woman, you don’t want me on these terms. Give us a chance, so I can be everything I can be and want to be to you.”

She stepped back from him. “Did I start this, Russ? I was almost minding my own business when you—”

He ran his hands ruthlessly over the back of his neck.
She wasn’t real. “You can’t make a joke out of something this important, Velma.”

“Joke? I was trying to tell the truth. If I hadn’t turned it on a little bit, we’d probably be at the skating rink by now.”

“Oh, hell.” He put his arms around her. “Baby, there’re two of us rowing this boat. Put on something warm and meet me at the bottom of the stairs in ten minutes, okay?”

She reached up, kissed him on the mouth and said, “Be gone with you.” He turned to open the door and felt a slap on his buttocks.
Get out of here, man. She doesn’t need to know what she just did.
After a long, penetrating look at her, he hurried down the hall and dashed up the stairs to his room. Thank God for a little exercise!

 

She didn’t know why she had suggested they ice-skate, except that she knew he needed to do something different, even exciting, before he shifted back to the old Russ, the solemn man who almost never found anything sufficiently amusing to laugh at it. It proved a tonic for her as well.

“Let’s sit over there on that bench,” he said, “and I’ll help you with your skates.”

Velma didn’t need help with her skates, and seconds before telling him so, a window of wisdom flooded her mind with insight, and she realized that he needed to do something for her. Kneeling on one knee, he slipped on her skates, tied the shoes and looked up at her.

“Have you ever been engaged?” he asked her.

She tried to imagine how that question came to his mind. “No. You’re the first man I haven’t managed to…to discourage, and I may succeed with you, yet.”

He didn’t smile, and when she felt his hand on her left knee, possessive, and therefore not by accident, she knew he hadn’t liked her answer.

“All right,” she conceded, “I haven’t agreed to marry, because I have never loved a man that much. Did anybody ever ask me? Yes, but I didn’t even consider it seriously.”

“I see.” He straightened up and sat beside her. “And you didn’t allow yourself to love anyone because you thought you weren’t perfect, that you might be rejected.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to say it. You love Alexis, and you’re proud of her. I can see that sibling envy can affect a person’s feelings about himself, but that usually translates into dislike and even meanness toward that sibling. But you would defend Alexis with your life. So there’s more to it.”

“I’ve never tried to understand my feelings about myself, Russ, because I have always accepted them. By the time I was old enough to go to school, I looked upon Alexis as my responsibility. She idolized me, followed me everywhere, and that seemed to please our parents and, as I look back, especially our mother. As we grew older, I protected her from the ugliness that was our world. A world of self-centered parents who often behaved as if they had no children.

“I was about eight the first time I was aware that one of their verbal brawls ended in loud sex. And until my mother died and my father disappeared, that was their pattern. One day, when I was about eleven, I asked my father if he would move Alexis to the guest room, and when he asked why, I told him. He said nothing, but he changed her room and left me to deal with the situation as best I could. I don’t think they could relate to each other in any other way.”

“So you sheltered her and took the brunt of it yourself.”

“I guess you’d say that. She was the most popular girl in our school, got the leading role in school plays, was a drum majorette, everything that goes with being beautiful.”

“But that didn’t bother you until she married.”

“That’s the night I saw the difference between her and me, and that was when I realized I’d never have what I want so badly.’

His hand wrapped around hers, as if to encourage her. “Go on.”

She blinked back the moisture that threatened to drop from her eyes. “I…I wanted what she had…the love of a wonderful man and a houseful of people who cared deeply for her and—”

“And what?”

“Children of my own. My own family.” The tears came then, and she couldn’t stop them as they rolled down her cheeks.

“This was the wrong time for us to start this,” he said, and wrapped his arm around her. “Your life hasn’t been easy, and we could say the same of Alexis. But she has put it behind her, and I want you to try and do the same.” He hugged her. “If I did what I feel like doing right now, I’d probably get locked up.”

She wiped her eyes and looked at him, unable, even in her sadness, to resist putting words to the image in her mind’s eye. “You? They’d probably pull me in first, ’cause, honey, you can make a woman think and feel sin.”

“Sin? Is that what they call it these days?” He stood, grasped her hand and moved onto the rink. Repeat after me: ‘I am Russ Harrington’s woman, and he knows I am perfect.’”

She couldn’t help laughing and thought her heart would overflow with joy. “You are totally nuts, but you are number one with me.”

As they skated, she began to notice the women who gazed at him. “Serves her right,” she said beneath her breath when one woman tripped over her skates as she passed Russ.
A glance at him and she knew he hadn’t seen the woman or the incident. He didn’t seem to mind forwardness in a woman, and that was probably a good thing, since she possessed a talent for self-assertion, but breaking your neck to make a man notice you somehow didn’t make sense.

“We’d better pack it in,” he said. “It’s six o’clock, and I’ll need to change before dinner.”

“So will I.”

In the locker room, she sat on a bench to remove her skates and, to her surprise, he knelt in front of her, untied her shoes and slipped them off her feet.

“Thanks,” she said, awed by the thought that struck her. He had been kneeling before her, putting on her skates when he suddenly asked her if she had ever been engaged. She didn’t have to be an Einstein to make the connection: the thought of asking her to marry him or maybe swearing he would never do it had crossed his mind. She’d give anything to know which.

 

Tara raced to meet them when they walked into the house. “Uncle Russ, Aunt Velma, guess what?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Grant is going to be my partner in the school play, and he’s going to be George Washington and I’m going to be Martha Washington. Grant’s daddy said thank God we wouldn’t be Republicans. Is my dad going to mind?”

“I don’t know,” Russ said. “Didn’t you ask him?”

“No, because I don’t know what a Republican is.”

“But you won’t be one, so don’t worry.”

Her bottom lip dropped. “But Uncle Russ, we don’t know who George Washington is.”

He lifted her and hugged her, his face softening with love and warmth. “Was. He’s not here any longer. When he was here, he was a wonderful man, the father of our country.”

“Oh. Who was the mother?”

Velma nearly laughed at the perplexed expression on Russ’s face. “Uh…his wife, I suppose.”

She scampered down. “I’m going to telephone Grant. He doesn’t know that, and he’s worried.”

A frown flitted across Russ’s face. “Worried about who was the mother of our country?”

She appeared confused, but only for a second. “He wanted Martha Washington to be George Washington’s wife in the play.”

Russ stared at Velma, as if asking for guidance. Then, he said, “Tell him not to worry. You’ll be his wife in the play.”

She clapped her hands, hugged Russ’s leg, and ran up the stairs, obviously with the intent of telephoning Grant. Russ looked toward the stairs and back at Velma. “Was life ever that simple?”

“Or that sweet?” she answered.

“I’d better get upstairs and freshen up,” he said, “or Alexis will have my head. Thanks for being there for me when I needed you, and for opening up to me the way you did. See you later.” His lips brushed hers. Then he gazed down at her for a long time before turning and dashing up the stairs.

 

She awakened at about three o’clock the next morning, dampened with sweat and panting for breath. Slowly, she remembered with crystal clarity the vision of Iris Parker chasing her until she stumbled and the woman stared down at her, laughing. “He’s mine,” Iris sneered, “and he will always be mine. Look at me. Can
you
take a man away from
me?

She got up, straightened the rumpled bedding and crawled back in bed, but insofar as rest was concerned, the night was
shot, and she could only blame herself and her sensitivity to the way she looked.

“I’m going to take that medicine, follow my diet and get some exercise every day, and I’m going to a spa and treat myself well. I deserve it,” she said aloud and began waiting for seven o’clock.

“Are you going to work at the warehouse with your brothers this morning?” Velma asked Russ at breakfast.

“I have to,” he said, and she thought she detected a tone of regret in his voice. “Drake leaves tomorrow morning, so it will be some time before we can work on that inventory again.”

“Found any clues as to who’s ripping you off?”

“No, but we’re able to determine who is not doing it, and that’s important.”

“Then I’ll catch up with you in Baltimore. I have to prepare for that party I told you about.”

“You mean the fraternity that doesn’t use Greek letters? When is the affair?”

“Saturday night.”

“They didn’t give you much time to prepare for it.”

“I know, and I’m charging them for that.”

“I wish you could wait until this afternoon, and I’d tail you home.”

“It would be nice. Thanks for the thought.”

 

Saturday came too soon. The number of last-minute chores was almost too demanding for one person to handle. “I’ll be glad when I open my office and have a place to store my own merchandise,” she told the woman she’d hired to assist her.

“Be sure and remember me when you start hiring,” the woman said.

“If we get on well here, I will,” she said.

She didn’t remember a more elegant, perfectly served dinner, but almost as soon as the coffee and aperitifs were served, guests at table after table lit a joint, and she was sickened by the aroma and the inhalation of the smoke. Because she was responsible for everything in the room, from glassware to the chairs on which the people sat, she was reluctant to leave. She noticed a change in the type of drugs used and, in desperation, called her sister and explained her dilemma.

“I’m responsible for all these things I rented,” she told Alexis, “and I can’t decide whether to walk out or stay here and protect my financial interest and risk being arrested.”

“I hope I never have to bail you out of jail, hon. Go near the front door, so you can get out if things get worse. And have your coat and your pocketbook close by.”

She enjoyed a challenge, and right then, she faced a serious one, but if she stayed and was arrested on a felony charge, she could say goodbye to her business.

“I’m leaving,” she said to herself. “After all, everything I rented is insured.” She rushed to the cloakroom, got her wrap and briefcase and headed for the door. But as she reached for the doorknob, the door opened with such force that she fell backward and nearly toppled to the floor.

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