“I don’t anymore. But people don’t forget everything they know.”
“You seem to be feeling better about things tonight.”
“You noticed.”
“Yesterday was pretty awful. I guess it’s good not to be scared.”
“It is,” she agreed. “I’d say that’s a necessary condition—not to be actively scared. But you have to remember that I’ve learned to tolerate a certain level of insecurity in my life—just like you do.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t start questioning the source of a good mood. It’ll kill it.”
“Not at all. I’m glad that you’re watching me closely enough to notice it, and I’m glad you mentioned it because it forces me to confess.”
“Confess?”
“Yes. I was smiling to myself because this is exactly the same as a fantasy I’ve had over the past six years.”
“Really. Then I’m delighted to be at the table to see it.” He looked around the room, as though in new appreciation.
“You’re an essential part of it.”
“I am?”
“Yes.” She sipped her martini, but kept the glass up and studied him over the rim. “You don’t think about having a beautiful evening by yourself. Somebody has to share it.”
He met her gaze and understood. “I’m honored.”
They ate in a leisurely way, each sampling the other’s entree. The waiter arrived to clear the table, brought the dessert menus and coffee, then returned with sweet berries and sorbet, all with a deliberate air of unhurried politeness.
As they shared their dessert and drank the coffee, Till had time to consider what he was about to do. It was going to complicate matters, it was unwise, and it was probably unethical. He waited through the elaborate ritual of the little leather folder. When Wendy paid the bill in cash, he nodded in approval. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner.”
They walked to the car and Till opened the door for her, but she didn’t get in at once. She put her arms around him and kissed him. The kiss began as a gentle, tentative peck, but when he responded, the kiss deepened and became passionate. She broke it off and ducked her head to get into the car.
He came around the back of the car and sat behind the steering wheel. “That was a nice surprise.”
“It was very nice. But it wasn’t a surprise.”
“What do you mean?” Till started the car and drove slowly toward the exit from the lot.
“We’re not teenagers, Jack. We both knew exactly what the kiss would be like. We’ve lived too much not to be able to imagine it perfectly. I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you as soon as I saw you.”
Till stopped at the end of the driveway and looked in both directions, preparing to pull onto the highway.
She said, “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking about me.”
“Yes.”
Till drove back to the center of Morro Bay and down to the ocean, doubled back twice to be sure that they had not been spotted in the restaurant and followed, then parked the car in the hotel lot among the others. He and Wendy went up to the second floor, and he had her stay in the stairwell while he checked to be sure that they’d had no visitors in their rooms.
When he was certain it was safe, he went to the door and opened it. She was already stepping into his arms. She had not been quite right about knowing. She was exactly as he had known she would be—beautiful, pale, soft, fragrant—and yet his imagination had been unable to anticipate the way he felt. There was no hesitation between them because this decision had first been made six years ago, and even though they had denied it, the wish had not gone away. Tonight it was as though they had been given another chance to make the right choice, to live the images that had come into their minds in bitter regret and longing during the years since then.
Afterward they lay on the bed together, her head on his shoulder, and his hand caressing her naked back, moving slowly from the shoulder down to her narrow waist and along the curve of her hip. She sighed. “It sure took us a long time to get here. I’m so glad to stop waiting and wondering.”
“I’m glad, too.”
“I thought about you a lot after you left me at the airport. I don’t mean that day. I mean from then until now.”
“You were hurt and alone and scared. It’s a natural reaction.”
She raised herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. “Don’t belittle this. It’s not a weakness or a whim.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought about you a lot, too. I wondered about where you were, what you were doing.”
“I dialed your number a few times. I even packed my bag twice.”
“What stopped you?”
“Things that seem stupid to me now. At first I was still afraid. Then I didn’t want anybody to think I was a failure who couldn’t survive a month on my own—but mostly you, because you were the one who had taught me and helped me get away. I told myself that if I was gone for a year or so, you would think better of me. After a year, it didn’t seem enough. After a couple of years passed, it was too much time. I began to think that I had imagined that you felt anything for me. Neither of us had ever said a word. I thought that if I suddenly showed up at your office, you would probably say, ‘Oh, yes. I remember your case. You relocated. How is that working out for you?’ I would stand there with my suitcase in my hand and no place to go, and start to cry. Then I married Dennis Donnelly, and I didn’t have the right to come to you anymore.”
Till lay silent for a few seconds, not sure whether to say what he was thinking or not, but she knew the question was in the air.
“It’s okay, Jack. Dennis knew it in advance. Ann Donnelly was a hiding place, and when it stopped fooling anybody, it was over.” She hugged him and lay still. “If you and I were really young or one of us were really naive, I would say that the marriage wasn’t real, or that Dennis was such a bad man that it somehow didn’t count. But he’s a nice, ordinary guy, and the marriage was probably as real as most of them are. We told each other jokes, saved for our old age, and had sex. The only difference was that we both knew it might have to end suddenly. Now it has.”
“Was yesterday really the end, or was tonight the end?”
“You have me figured out. Tonight was the end.”
“It’s a bit late to say that I didn’t want to harm him.”
“Want to give me back?”
“No.”
“I haven’t treated anyone as well as I wanted to—including him—but I told him the truth. I even told him about you. I didn’t tell him your name, but I told him that it could end in two ways: if the killers came for me, or if you did.”
“I’ve been wishing that this would happen since the first day six years ago. But I don’t know what’s after this.”
“I don’t, either. I’ve kind of given up on making that kind of prediction.” She kissed him, her leg came across his belly, and she shifted her weight over him. She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh. They made love again, this time slowly and gently, enjoying each other without the frantic uncertainty of a few hours ago.
It was after ten when they were lying in the bed in lazy silence again. She sat up abruptly, and he said, “Something wrong?”
“There’s one more thing I wanted to say.”
“What’s that?”
“His name is Scott.”
“Whose?”
“Kit’s boyfriend. His name is Scott. I heard her say his name that night.”
