“You’re sure?” he persisted.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Dwight turned off the hardtop into the lane that ran up to my house. When we pulled in next to the back porch, he left the motor running and reached across me to open the door so I could hop out as I always did.
“Well,” he said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Want to—”
I turned off the key in his ignition.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Before we make it official,” I said, “we need to find out if we’re really as compatible as you think we are.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb, Dwight.”
“Oh.”
He doused the truck lights and followed me into the house. The moon followed, too, and we did not turn on any lamps.
After a lifetime of treating Dwight like family, I was afraid that sex with him would feel vaguely incestuous. Instead, once we got past the first awkward kiss, it felt normal.
Okay, better than normal.
All right, dammit! It felt wonderful.
Nevertheless, as the coital glow faded, a wave of sadness washed over me. Lying next to him in the moon- softened darkness of my bedroom, I said, “We’re just settling, aren’t we?”
“Settling?”
“Settling for safe and comfortable because we’re afraid the real thing’s never going to come along?”
“You want an escape clause?” he asked quietly.
“Well, we ought to look at it logically.”
For some reason, that seemed to irritate him. “Oh shit, Deb’rah Knott! You never looked at love logically in your whole damn life.”
“But this isn’t love, is it? I mean, we love each other. We always have. But this isn’t romantic love. This is expedience. And I don’t know why you’re getting so huffy.”
“Well, why wouldn’t I? You no sooner say yes than you’re looking for a way to bust us up. If we do this, I expect it to be for better or worse till death do us part. No more divorces.”
“And what if someone comes along who makes you feel the way you felt when you and Jonna first fell in love?”
“Not going to happen,” he said stubbornly. “And even if it does, I’ll just remind myself where that feeling ended up the last time around.”
His denial of love’s importance made me so much sadder that I couldn’t speak and his head turned on the pillow beside me.
“But if you want an escape clause, if that someone comes along for you... Well, then, I won’t try to make you stay, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
He rolled closer and gathered me into his arms. “It’ll all work out, shug. You’ll see. It’ll be fine.”
His hand was gentle as he smoothed my hair away from my face, and his soothing words reminded me of someone trying to reassure a nervous filly that the saddle wouldn’t hurt at all. Amused and comforted, I eventually quit nickering and took the carrot he offered on his open hand.
After a second test of compatibility (we needed to be absolutely certain, didn’t we?), Dwight and I put our clothes back on and sat at my kitchen table to talk until after midnight.
Over coffee and some of Maidie’s oatmeal cookies, we agreed that he’d move in with me after the wedding and we’d think about adding on to my small house in the spring.
We also agreed he’d tell his mother and I’d tell Daddy; then he’d drive up to Virginia to tell Cal himself. Until then, to guard against any rumors reaching the boy first, no siblings and no friends.
“Just Portland,” I emended. We’ve always told each other everything and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her from guessing that something serious was on my mind.
“That means Avery, too, you know.”
I nodded. “It always has, but he’s never talked out of turn that I know of.” I looked at Dwight suspiciously. “Has he?”
“Well, maybe to me once or twice,” he admitted sheepishly. “When he and Portland were worried about you out there messing in stuff that could get you hurt.”
“So that’s how you found out,” I said, remembering a couple of those times when I’d have sworn there was no way he could know what I was up to. “Okay, Portland and Avery and nobody else till you tell Cal.”
“You gonna want a big church wedding?”
