Chapter 17 #2
As it turned out, apparently Uncle Leo had been a meanspirited old goat and his family had been concerned about his afterlife destination.
They were thrilled to learn he’d had a generous moment, no matter how long ago or vague, and they insisted we join them for lunch at the home of one of his daughters.
They fed us pulled pork, black-eyed peas, smothered greens, and cream pies until I thought the buttons on my dress would pop.
“We did those folks a world of good,” Joe said after we’d finally taken our leave.
“We lied to them.”
“We made them feel better about Leo.” He headed back onto the highway.
“It was still a lie.”
“The world isn’t like your newspaper photos, Addie girl. Not everything is black and white.”
“Black-and-white photos happen to have lots of shades of gray,” I pointed out, meaning that gray things were made up of black and white, negating his argument.
“Exactly,” Joe said, as if I’d just agreed with him.
The conversation drifted to lighter topics, but I filed his remarks in the back of my mind to discuss later.
We talked about family—I learned his father had left his mother shortly after he was born, that his mother had died when he was fourteen, and that he and his older sister had been raised by an aunt in California.
He deflected most of my questions by asking about me.
I chattered away like a magpie. I told him my father was a parish judge, and my brother, Andy, worked as an analyst for the War Department in Washington, D.C.
, and he was more like a distant uncle than a brother because he was so much older and I hardly ever saw him.
I told him about the rest of my family and Wedding Tree and even Charlie.
We drove all afternoon, stopped around dusk at a diner for sandwiches, then drove another hour before turning off the highway onto a dirt road.
It was black as pitch, and the tree frogs sang a loud, nighttime chorus.
The road grew narrower and narrower, the tree branches scraping the sides of the car.
I thought for sure we were lost, when the headlights finally lit up a little cabin.
It was unpainted clapboard, and it had a ramshackle, untended look to it.
Joe kept the headlights on while he rummaged around a rocking chair on the porch and pulled a key from under the left back rocker. He opened the screen door, then unlocked the oak one behind it.
A musty smell fluttered out. “The place could do with an airing,” he said, stepping inside and flipping on the light. “But it’s clean. Hank’s father hires a local lady to come in, change the sheets, and dust every month.”
“Even when no one comes here?”
“Yeah.”
What a luxury to be so rich, I thought, following him in.
The inside was neat as a pin, but just as worn as the outside—two cracked, worn leather chairs and a plaid, saggy sofa sat against unfinished wood walls.
The kitchen opened directly off the living room.
Corkboard covered one wall and was covered with clippings of faded, yellowed newspaper.
I leaned in and looked at the date on one. “This is from 1902!”
Joe nodded. “Hank said this place belonged to his great-granddad, and he used to come here as a kid. They added an indoor bathroom a few years ago.” He gestured toward the back. “It’s in the back, by the bedroom.”
I froze. “The bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
“I—I thought you said there were two bedrooms.”
“I said you’d have your own bedroom,” he replied. “I’ll sleep on the sofa out here.” He carried my bag into the room, which featured a rustic metal bed meticulously made up with an old, faded quilt.
He set down my suitcases and grinned at me as I stood frozen in the doorway. Tension stretched between us. He patted the mattress. “Come try it out.”
“I wonder if I can trust you,” I said, only half jesting.
“Are you really worried?”
“A little, now that I know how easily lies roll off your tongue.” I tentatively sat on the edge of the bed.
“At the funeral?” He plopped down beside me and leaned back against the wall, his arms behind his head. “Those weren’t lies. That was fiction.”
I shot him an arch look. “What’s the difference?”
“The reason behind it. A lie is when you’re telling an untruth for your own benefit. When you’re doing it for the good of someone else, it’s just a story.”
“That’s a very questionable line of reasoning, because any untruth—even about terrible things, like murder—can help someone.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, a murderer is protecting his parents when he says he didn’t do it, because they’re bound to grieve having reared such an awful son.”
“It’s always wrong to cover up a crime.”
“Every crime? Because it’s probably a crime to take a civilian up in a government plane.”
He grinned. “As I recall, I didn’t tell any untruths about that. Besides, no one was hurt. I like to think I helped make a dream come true.” He looked at me, and our gazes locked. His voice lowered to a goose-bump-making rumble. “I’d like to make all your dreams come true, Addie.”
From another man, it would have seemed like nothing but a line—a prelude to seduction. The way he looked at me, though—that all-the-way-through-to-my-soul, I-really-see-you-and-I-think-you’re-wonderful look he gave me—lifted it to a different level. So did what he did next.
He rose to his feet and headed to the door. “It’s late. You should go to bed. Fishing is a crack-of-dawn activity.”
“We’re really going to fish?”
“Sure. We want to eat, don’t we?”
He pulled the door closed.
I raced across the room and yanked it open. “Aren’t you going to kiss me good night?”
“No.” His eyes seemed somehow backlit, deep and multifaceted.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know that I could stop, and I promised you I’d be respectful.” He pulled the door closed, and I didn’t dare open it again.
· · ·
I remember bits and pieces of the next two days—the rest of that night, lying in bed awake, knowing he was in the other room, tossing and turning and burning, wondering if he were doing the same. I didn’t drop off until dawn, then awoke with the sun in my face.
Other memories are random, framed in my mind like snapshots.
The unexpected blue of the lake behind the cabin.
The scent of sweet olives in the air. The rocking of the rowboat.
His chest behind me as he taught me how to cast a rod.
Making sandwiches together in the kitchen.
Fishing from shore—and then wading in as the afternoon sun grew warmer and warmer.
The feel of my skirt clinging to my legs, the way the bottom of my white blouse turned transparent.
That second night was long and hot, despite the fact it was April and my screen windows were open. The awareness of Joe made me feel fevered and chilled all at the same time. I remember falling into an exhausted sleep, and awakening to the pure joy of another day with Joe.
The unseasonably warm weather continued.
That afternoon, I pushed him out of the rowboat.
He pulled me overboard, and we frolicked like two kids in the water—splashing and chasing each other, and then .
. . oh, the pleasure of being caught in his arms!
I turned and looked into his eyes. I swear my heart kept time with the crickets, it was going so fast. And then his mouth claimed mine, his lips warm and hard, and I was drowning in emotion, not wanting to let go.
He was the one who pulled back. “Damn it, Addie,” he murmured. “You’re enough to make a man lose his mind.”
I had already lost mine. All I could think of was getting close again, feeling his mouth on mine. I raised my leg and wrapped it around him, half floating in the water. He put his hands on my shoulders and put me away from him. “This was a mistake.”
“What was?”
“All of it. Bringing you here, kissing you . . . Hell, this damned whole trip.” He wiped the water from his face. “A man shouldn’t put the girl he wants to marry in a dangerous situation.”
Two words hit my brain simultaneously: marry and dangerous. The first word overrode everything I knew about the second.
“You . . . you mean, you want . . . ?”
“I want to marry you, Addie. I love you.” The words came out in a rush, in a tone that sounded almost angry.
“Is that a proposal?”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” He looked at me, his eyes clear and serious in the tree-dappled light. “So what do you say?”
Joy filled me, making my heart rise and float like a helium balloon. “Yes!” I threw my arms around his neck, splashing both of us. “Yes, oh yes!”
The kiss left us both breathless. At length he pulled back. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.” Taking my hand, he started pulling me toward the shore.
Do it? Do what?
He seemed to read my mind. “Let’s go find a justice of the peace.”
“Now? Today?”
“Right this minute.”
“Oh, but I can’t!” I stopped, up to my waist in water. “My family . . . why, they’d die if I eloped!”
“Addie, I have to be back on base tomorrow night. I ship out the day after.”
“But I’m the only daughter, and my mother has always dreamed of planning my wedding. And my dad—he needs to give you permission, and he has to walk me down the aisle!”
Joe blew out a hard sigh.
“You don’t understand about small southern towns,” I said. “My parents would be disgraced. Lisa Sue Adams ran off and married a man no one knew three years ago, and it’s still a big scandal.”
Silence welled between us.
“I want to, Joe, but I just can’t do that to my parents.”
“No, I don’t suppose you can.” The sun was in my eyes, making it hard for me to read his expression. He tightened his grip on my hand. “Well, go get your things together. We can’t stay here.”
He intended for us to leave? To abandon paradise? The thought was unacceptable. “Of course we can.”
“Damn it, Addie, I’m crazed with wanting you. If this were a mission, I’d have to turn the controls over to my copilot, because I’m not in my right mind.”
“Well, me, neither.”
“Which is exactly why you need to go back to the cabin, put on some dry clothes, and pack up your things.” He took my shoulders and pointed me toward shore.
I turned around to face him, but he was plowing through the water, swimming for the opposite shore at a speed I couldn’t possibly match.
I wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to even attempt to follow him.
I reluctantly headed to the cabin, my body burning with need.
I don’t know what came over me or where I found the courage; I only knew I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving here, of sending Joe off to war, of going back to my everyday life without getting as close to this man as I could possibly get.
Like Eve with the apple, I needed to know what I didn’t know.
I dried off, but I didn’t dress. I dabbed on perfume, wrapped in a dry towel, then sat on the sofa and waited.
My already-pounding heart thundered as I heard his step on the porch. The screen door creaked open, and then he filled the doorway. His eyes moved over me. “Why aren’t you dressed?” His voice was harsh.
“I was waiting for you.”
“No.”
“Yes.” I stood up and dropped the towel. I heard his breath catch. I stepped toward him before I lost my nerve. “Joe—I want to be with you. This is our last chance. And Marge told me you couldn’t get pregnant the first time.”
“You can’t bank on that.”
“Well, aren’t there . . . devices?”
“Condoms?”
I nodded. “Do you have any?”
“Some military-issued ones in my shaving kit, but that’s not the question here. I gave you my word, Addie, and . . .”
“I don’t want your word. I want you.” I don’t know where my boldness came from. It was like I was somebody else. I picked up his hand and put it on my breast. “You’re not the only one who has a say in this, you know.”
His breath hitched. “You’re playing with fire here.”
“I’m counting on it.” I pulled his head down and kissed him.
Once again I was swimming, swimming in emotion and a depth of desire I hadn’t known existed.
I became a creature I didn’t recognize, a creature desperate and intense, straining for something I couldn’t name.
He touched and kissed me in places that shocked me, yet made me crave more.
He whispered words of love and caressed me until I was aching with need.
I couldn’t get close enough, yet we were so close I couldn’t breathe without inhaling the air he’d just exhaled.
I couldn’t imagine ever breathing on my own again.
Every stroke took me higher and higher, until I cried out and shuddered and thought I was flying and dying all at the same time.
“You’re mine,” he whispered afterward.
“Likewise,” I said.
“We’ll marry as soon as I get back.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll write your father and ask for your hand. Make all the fancy wedding plans you want.”
We stayed in bed the rest of the day and night, making love over and over, sleeping and talking, talking, talking.
We made plans for the future, plans about where we’d live and travel, about what we’d do, about how wonderful life would be.
I was walking on air, flying higher than a B-24, soaring above rainbows and moonbeams toward all my wildest dreams.