Janet and I were so glad when the service was over that it was all we could do not to bolt from the church. Becca seemed intrigued with the whole experience.
“Have you ever seen anything like that before?” she asked, but not in a voice low enough to suit me. We were still close to the other mourners, who were scattering to climb into their cars for the drive to the cemetery.
Janet shook her head silently.
“Who knows what’ll happen at the gravesite,” Becca said in happy anticipation.
“You’ll have to catch a ride with Carlton,” I said, nodding toward my neighbor who was just coming out of the church. “I’m going home.” I started down the sidewalk. Janet trotted after me.
“Hold up, Lily!” she said. “I don’t think I’ll go to the cemetery either. That service kind of shook me up. I guess Methodists are too repressed for something that emotionally… open.”
“ ‘Open,’ ” I snarled, and kept on walking. “I didn’t like that.”
“You mean the church? The people?”
I nodded.
“Well, I wasn’t raised that way either, but it seemed to make them feel better,” Janet commented cautiously. “I don’t know, it might have been kind of comforting.”
I shuddered.
“Listen, what are you going to do now?”
“Call the hospital.”
“About what?”
“Joe C.”
“Oh, yeah, he had a fire last night, didn’t he?”
I nodded. “See you later,” I told Janet. I forced myself to add, “Thanks for going with me.”
Janet looked happier. “You’re welcome. Thanks for letting me use your driveway.” She got into her red Toyota and started it up, waving at me as she backed out.
The street was filled with cars pulling away from the curb, lining up to follow the hearse to the cemetery. As I stood in my front doorway, the street emptied of all its life like one of those time-lapse films. Only one Jeep remained parked farther up the street. I was alone with the trees in the arboretum across the street.
No, not quite alone. As I finally took a step back into my house I saw a man get out of the Jeep and begin to saunter down the street toward me.
It was Bobo, I realized with some astonishment, and remembered our appointment. As he walked, he was loosening his tie and pulling it off, stuffing it into the pocket of his dark suit. He loosened his collar button with two tan fingers, and raked back his blond hair.
Suddenly the postfuneral exaltation of being alive hit me. I felt the crackle of lightning about to strike. The man coming down the sidewalk toward me felt it too. He quickened his pace until he was actually hurrying, keeping all his attention focused on me. When he got to my door, without saying a word he wrapped me in his long arms and held me to him and kissed the hell out of me.
My brain said,
We were visible to any passersby.
That must have occurred to Bobo, too, because he pushed me a little and into my house we lurched and he spared a hand to press the door closed.
Bobo bit me on the neck and I growled and began grinding into him. The top of my suit was unbuttoned and his hand was inside, caressing me through my bra. Bobo ground right back, and my hands went under his suit coat to hold on to his butt, and our rhythm went on, and somehow he hit exactly the right spot and I saw stars. He groaned, and I felt the front of his pants grow wet.
Then there was only the sound of our panting.
“Floor,” Bobo suggested, and our knees gave way.
My living room isn’t large and there isn’t much floor space. I was sitting right next to the sprawled-out young man, and my blood was still humming through my veins.
But after only a few seconds, I was overwhelmed with the wrongness and stupidity of what I’d just done. And with someone I thought of as a friend. The day before Jack was returning.
All these years of trying so hard not to make a mistake had just gone down the drain.
“Lily,” said a voice gently. Bobo was propped up on his elbow next to me. His flushed face had returned to its normal coloring, his breathing was even. His big hand traveled an infinite distance to hold mine. “Lily, don’t feel sad.”
I was unable to speak. I wondered if Bobo was twenty-one yet. I told myself in the nastiest terms what a depraved moron I had been. I wanted to literally beat my head against the wall.
“It was the moment,” he said.
I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I answered.
“Don’t be so upset,” he repeated. “I don’t wanna be crude, Lily, but it was just a dry hump.”
I’d never heard the phrase before.
“You almost smiled, I saw your mouth twitch,” he told me, pleased.
I brushed his hair back from his forehead.
“Can we pretend it never happened?” My voice wasn’t as shaky as I’d feared it would be.
“No, I don’t think so. What it was, was fantastic. I’ve always had a thing about you.” He drew my hand to him, kissed it. “But I never saw this coming. It was just funeral fever. You know-she’s dead, but we’re alive. Sex is a great way to prove to yourself you’re alive.”
“You’re being wise.”
“It’s about time you got a break, let someone else do the wise thing.”
“I do plenty of things that aren’t so smart,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.
“Lily, this won’t happen again, not ever. You’re not gonna let it. So let’s be real honest with each other.”
I wasn’t sure what that would entail. I waited for him to go on.
“There’s no telling how many fantasies I’ve had about you since you worked for my mother. When you know some beautiful, mysterious woman is cleaning your room, it’s just a sure thing you’re going to imagine… what if? My favorite one-”
“Please, no,” I said.
“Oh, all right.” He had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “But the point of this is I
A little more than that, I thought ruefully. But I knew better than to say it out loud. “You don’t really know me,” I said, as gently as I was able.
“There’s a lot I know about you that you won’t admit about yourself,” he retorted.
I didn’t understand.
“You pull old men out of burning buildings. You saved Jack Leeds’ life and almost died in the act. You’re willing, and brave enough, to risk your life to save others.”
What a misconception! “No, no, no,” I protested angrily. He made a kind of dampening gesture, patting down the air with his free hand. I sat up and reached over to the pile of folded laundry on the chair, laundry I hadn’t had a chance to put away today. I passed him a hand towel, and he began dabbing at the front of his pants, trying hard not to be embarrassed.
“You did those things. You are brave.” He sounded flat, and final.
I didn’t want to hear a booster speech from Bobo Winthrop. I was going to feel bad about what had just happened for a long, long time.
“And you’re smart, and hard working, and really, really, pretty.”
All of a sudden, tears stung the back of my eyelids. The final humiliation, I thought.
“You have to leave,” I said abruptly. I leaned over to kiss Bobo on his cheek. For the last-and only-time, I pulled him close and hugged him after we stood up.
“Now, you go, and we’ll be okay in a week or two,” I told him, hoping that I was telling him the truth. He looked down at me very seriously, his handsome face so solemn I could scarcely bear it.
“I have to tell you something else,” Bobo insisted. “Listen to me, Lily. I’m switching subjects here.”
