Pamela walked up the steps at 10 John Brown Drive wondering what role Harrington House would play in her future. She thought it odd that Drake didn’t use his door key but rang the bell instead. When the door opened, he had his arm around her waist, smiled at Henry and said, “You remember Pamela, don’t you?”
Stepping away from Drake, she said, “I’m so glad to see you again, Henry,” leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“And I’m glad to see you. I’d started to think this man here was off his rocker.” He lifted her overnight bag from where Drake had placed it on the floor. “You’re just in time for supper, so wash your hands and we’ll eat. Come with me.”
She looked back at Drake, who stood in the doorway running his fingers through the hair at the right side of his head. “You coming?”
“Who, me? I’m odd man out. Henry’s taken my girl.”
“You can go wash your hands, too,” Henry threw at Drake over his shoulder. “I’m taking Pamela to the guest room.”
“We’re all glad to see you,” Henry told her. “And I was tickled to death when Velma told me you’d be one of her bridesmaids.” He opened the door of the guest room and placed her overnight bag on the floor beside the door. “You got about twelve minutes. Alexis gets indigestion if anybody shows up late for dinner. Danged if she didn’t make civilized men outta the boys, especially Russ.”
“Where’s the rest of the family?”
“Upstairs getting their act together. Till a few minutes ago, they were out back in the pool.” He turned to leave.
“Thanks for the warm welcome, Henry. I…uh…needed it.”
“That’s all you’ll get in this house. We’d just about given up on seeing you here. Hurry along, now.”
While trying to decide what to put on, she remembered Velma’s tale about her caftans and why she no longer wore them. My burnt-orange jumpsuit will do just fine. I like it, so I’ll wear it. She opened her suitcase, took out the garment and shook it. Sleeveless with a jewel neckline and wide, almost flared legs. Perfect, she said to herself, refreshed her makeup, combed out her hair, and slipped into the figure-flattering jumpsuit.
“Yes?” she said in response to a knock on her door. “In a minute.” She didn’t want Drake in that room, at least not right then, because if he touched her, everybody in the house, including Tara, would be able to read the signs in her whole demeanor. She opened the door and her pulse rate quickly decelerated.
“Alexis! It’s so good to see you.”
“And you. We’ve done everything but hold a prayer vigil for you and Drake. Of course, we didn’t speak to him directly, only through the man upstairs. I’m so happy that you’ve come. Are things good between you and Drake?”
She grasped Alexis’s hand. “Yes. Yes. I’m afraid to wake up. We’re not there yet, but we’re not standing still, either.”
Alexis’s arms went around her. “I’m so happy for both of you.”
Pamela stepped back and stared at Alexis. “You’re… Are you—”
Alexis’s smile was answer enough, but she said, “You guessed right.”
Pamela thought her heart turned over. “Oh, how wonderful! Bless you.”
They walked to the dining room arm in arm. She’d always thought it self-centered to be envious of another, and she fought it hard as they entered the dining room. A chorus of welcome greeted her.
“Hi, everybody. I’m so glad to see all of you.” She looked around at Tara, Russ and Telford, who she hadn’t seen since entering the house. “It’s good to be here.”
“If I wasn’t looking at Henry, I would have thought you went off somewhere with him,” Drake said. “That was a long twelve minutes.” Was he complaining? He stood, looked at her and grinned, banishing that thought from her mind. “Twelve minutes, huh? It was definitely worth the wait.”
“You can take care of that, later,” Henry said. “I’m ready to eat. Who’s going to say the grace?”
“I will,” Russ said. “If I don’t, my niece will treat us to a half-hour soliloquy.”
After dinner, she expected to sit in the den and enjoy aperitifs and family camaraderie as they did on her previous visit, but Drake ended that idea when he said, “If you all will excuse us, we’re going for a walk.”
Tara jumped up from the table and ran to him. “But Uncle Drake, won’t Miss Pamela be tired? I wanted her to hear me play.”
He hunkered down and hugged her. “Pamela isn’t tired, and you may play for her tomorrow. All right?”
Tara clapped her hands. “She’s going to stay tonight, Mommy, and I can play for her tomorrow.”
Pamela longed to hug the precious little girl, to hold a child in her arms. “I can’t wait to hear you play,” she said to Tara. “Can we make a date for right after lunch tomorrow?”
Tara ran to her and hugged her. “Okay.” Then she said, “Uncle Drake says I’m his best girl.”
Pamela restrained a laugh. It seemed that one learned jealousy early in life. “And I can see why. You are a darling child.” Tara’s kiss on her cheek was the most endearing gift the child could have given her. She looked up to see Drake’s gaze fastened on her and knew instinctively that the other adults watched them. It was a moment in which she cursed her fair complexion, for she could feel the heat in her face.
With his hand holding hers, Drake said, “Come on. This is the second-best part of the day.”
“And the best part?”
“Early morning at sunrise when the world is coming alive. See you all later.”
As they walked along the road leading to the Harrington warehouse, the cool evening breeze brushed her hair from her face, everywhere fireflies danced and already, between the setting of the sun and moonrise, the night creatures had begun their discordant symphony. Slowly, their shadows emerged, long, El Greco–esque figures strolling ahead of them. Drake pointed to a wooded area on a slight hill half a mile from Harrington House.
“One of these days, I hope to build a home up there,” he said. “It’s near enough that I would be on my own and still be close to my brothers, their families and Henry. I thought of building behind Henry’s cottage, but I want to be closer to the river. Everything you see around here belongs to us.” He pointed to the warehouse and the wooded areas beyond it. “The next settled area is Landstown. And after that, there’s Beaver Ridge, about twelve miles away, where our friends the Roundtree family live.”
“It’s a wonderful place for a child,” she said, “but who does Tara play with?”
“She has her schoolmates, but she and Grant Roundtree are great friends, and that suits both families.”
She didn’t want to suggest to him that his family lived in its own world, needing only each other. But wasn’t that true? “Where are Russ and Velma planning to live?”
“Russ is building farther up the hill. He and I want Telford to have the family home. He was only seventeen when our father died, but he took care of us, Pamela. Telford and Henry kept us together. Russ and I went to college because Telford worked to supplement our scholarships and to send himself to school. We’ve been successful because we’ve stuck together and because Henry has always been there for us. A woman who is a part of my life has to accept them as a part of hers.”
She stopped walking and faced him. “I admire everybody in that house back there, and I marvel that three teenage orphans could make of themselves what the three of you have become.” Once more he was suggesting that he wanted her to be a part of his life while avoiding saying anything that would confirm it, and every day, she was getting that much closer to a childless life.
“I never thought of us as orphans, because we had Henry.” He slipped an arm around her waist and turned back. “We’ve walked over a mile. I hope you aren’t tired.”
“Not one bit. Has it occurred to you that we seem to communicate well when we’re surrounded by nature?”
A raccoon and two little ones strolled across their path, and he stopped so as not to frighten them. “Maybe it’s because we both love the outdoors. I’m having my horse brought over tomorrow morning around seven and a mare for you, so I hope you brought at least a pair of jeans.”
“You warned me, so I came prepared to ride and to swim.” As they neared the house, she looked up at the bright moonlight and the moon shining through the trees and didn’t try to control the gasp that escaped her. “No wonder you love it here. It’s idyllic. So beautiful!”
“So are you.” He looked down at her, smiled and his voice, dark and mellifluous, sent frissons of heat scooting down her spine.
His aura enveloped her, battling the moonlight, the scent of roses and her memories of his loving for possession of her senses. Her lips quivered and her breathing shortened, and she reached out to him.
“Baby!” With one hand beneath her buttocks and the other one at the back of her head, he lifted her to fit him. She parted her lips and he plunged into her, flicking his tongue, dueling with hers and then showing her what he needed from her. Exasperated at being denied the thrusts of his body inside of her, she sucked his tongue into her mouth and when his hand went to her breast, her hips began to undulate against him. She couldn’t help it, and she didn’t care if he knew it.
“Drake. Honey, please. I…”
He set her away from him. “They’ll still be in the den when we get back, and they’ll be looking for signs of my frustration.” He laughed. “Don’t look horrified. I’ve done the same to them. And since I’m sleeping alone tonight, I’d better not make it any worse for myself.”
Laughter poured out of her. “I suppose you think I’ll hop into bed like a little bunny and fall fast asleep, eh?” She joined in his laughter, but in the back of her mind, she knew that if she made herself too available, he might never want a different arrangement.
“It’s really nice out,” Drake said to no one in particular when they entered the den. He pointed to a big, overstuffed leather chair. “Have a seat over there. What would you like to drink?”
“Do you have any ginger ale?”
“Absolutely.” He put cracked ice in a tall glass, filled the glass with ginger ale and brought it to her.
“Thanks. What are you having?”
“Since I don’t have to drive, I’m going to enjoy a vodka and tonic.” He got the drink, kicked the ottoman till it rested beside her chair and sat down with his shoulder against her leg.
“Pamela and I are going riding tomorrow morning.” He looked at Alexis. “If I got a pony for Tara, would you let me teach her to ride? It’s best she learn while she’s young. I can keep the pony the same place where I board Donny Brook.”
It was Telford who answered him. “She’d love it, but not unless Grant could ride with her.”
“Good. Then convince Adam to buy his son a pony. My niece deserves one.”
Pamela tuned out the conversation, unable to take her eyes from Alexis. The woman sat regally, leaning back in her chair with her knees crossed and her hands folded across her belly, protecting the fetus inside of her.
I am not going to cry, she said to herself. I’m going to smile if it kills me, and Monday when I get to work, I’m going to check on that agency. Maybe Drake will make us a family, but maybe not till it’s too late. Every month my chance of getting pregnant and producing a normal, healthy child diminishes. I don’t hold it against him. Every person has a right to pursue his or her dream. I love him, but I’m going after my dream. He knows how I long for a child, and I am not going to mention it to him again. If he wants us to be together, he knows what to do.
Suddenly, she felt the pressure of his head against her thigh and wondered if he knew what a possessive gesture he’d made in the presence of his family. She rested her hand on his shoulder and, to her surprise, he covered it with his own.
“Tara don’t need to wait for Adam to buy Grant a pony,” she heard Henry say. “If Alexis and Tel don’t mind her having one, buy her the pony. She’ll love it just like she loves that little dog.”
“Of course, she will,” Telford said. “Let her mother and me think about it.”
“Think about what?” Russ asked, his tone signaling that he was about to disagree with someone or something. “She lives out here in the suburbs, practically in the country, and her closest playmate is twelve miles. Let her have the pony, for heaven’s sake.”
“Seems to me like you oughta build a stable. Yer paying a fortune to board yer stallion, and yer gonna pay even more to board a pony, ’cause it takes a lot of care.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Drake said, “though I haven’t lost any sleep over it.”
“I think I’ll turn in,” Pamela said. “We’re riding early in the morning.”
He stood immediately and announced, “Be back shortly,” took her hand and walked with her down the hall toward the guest room.
“I’ll be down for breakfast at six-thirty. Can you make it then?”
“Sure, but what about Henry? Isn’t that too early for him to get breakfast?”
“No. He gets up at daylight.” They reached her door. “Kiss me good-night, and please don’t tempt me.” When she reached up and pressed a quick kiss on his lips, he stared down at her. “I didn’t mean a brotherly kiss, I meant a kiss.”
She brushed the side of his face with the back of her hand. “When it comes to you, honey, there’s only one kind of kiss. What’ll it be?”
A grin formed around his lips, and then his face creased in a wide smile. “You know how to get what you want, don’t you?” She parted her lips and took him in. “Whoa there. I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning.” He opened the door, pushed her inside and left.
Drake stopped by the den, told his family good-night, mostly to indicate that he was staying in his own room, and headed up the stairs. What he did was his business, but he didn’t want to cause speculation about Pamela. After all, as his Seneca grandmother was supposed to have counseled, “Many suns drink from the ocean before the clouds weep and water the earth.” So the less known about his relationship with Pamela, the better. Still, he’d be the first to say that each time they were together, his feelings for her grew stronger. And as the weekend progressed, it bore heavily upon him that she fitted well with his family and they would quickly and easily love her.
“How’d you enjoy your weekend in the country?” he asked her as they walked down the hallway to her apartment that Sunday evening.
“I loved it, and that surprised me, because I’ve always considered myself a very urban creature. I loved everything about it.” Then she shocked him with the question, “Why wasn’t Velma at Eagle Park this weekend? They don’t seem to spend a lot of time together.”
“Russ was working at Eagle Park because he needed to consult with Telford about the structure he’s working on. When he’s designing a structure, he stays to himself, and work is his whole life. He’s fortunate in that Velma understands that and supports him.”
“She is a very likable person. I am hoping that she and I will become close friends.”
“Is your bridesmaid’s dress ready?”
“I’m picking it up Thursday.”
A rueful smile played around his lips. “Do I look like a man who doesn’t want to leave you?”
She opened her arms, and he rushed into them. “There’ll be other nights, darling, hopefully more than I can count.”
He gazed into her eyes and asked himself what more a man could want. “I hope you’re good at math,” he said in a feeble effort to let her know that he empathized with her wish. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and you can let me know when we can be together this week. I’ll get our tickets for our flight to Texas Friday afternoon.” He left her with the feel of her kiss clinging to his lips.
At seven-forty the following Friday evening, he stashed their bags in the trunk of the black Cadillac he’d rented and headed away from the San Antonio International Airport out San Pedro Avenue en route to Waverly. “I hope your father isn’t planning to give me a hard time, because something tells me I’m not in the mood for it.”
She didn’t seem concerned. “Do you ever lose your temper?” she asked him.
He put the car in cruise control, flipped on a Duke Ellington CD and hummed a few bars of “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.”
“You know I am not easygoing. I keep my counsel and try not to let people and situations rile me, but I can lose it, and I definitely have done that.”
She released a soft whistle. “I don’t think I’d like to be there.”
Remembering an encounter with a football teammate while in college, he grimaced. “No, I don’t suppose you would. A classmate heckled me once too often, and I flattened him. He was out till an ambulance arrived. Scared me almost to death.”
“Is that the last time?”
“It’s the last time I used my fists. Watch out for the exit.”
“About four miles. What time are we leaving Sun day?”
He told her and winced when an oncoming car met them with full headlights blazing. A few minutes later, he turned off the highway and into the lane leading to Pamela’s home. “Here we are, and I hope I don’t meet any more drivers like that one. He practically blinded me.”
The brown Tudor-style house seemed eerie in the moonlight and out of place in the sleepy Southern environment. To his surprise, Phelps Langford opened the door.
“It’s time you got here,” Phelps said. “I’m starving.” He extended his right hand to Drake. “It’s good to see you again. Come on in.”
Thoughts of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf flickered through his mind, but he shoved them aside. “How are you, sir? I wasn’t sure I ought to risk this trip.”
When Phelps laughed, he saw Pamela’s resemblance to him. “Oh, nonsense. I jerked your chain, and you jerked right back. Men do that sort of thing. You know that.”
If that was the apology he’d get, he supposed it beat not getting one. “Happy birthday. I hope you’ll have as many more.”
“Thanks, but I’m not sure I want to live to be a hundred and thirty. Everybody I care about would be dead. How was your trip?” Phelps turned, looked back at his daughter and grinned. “I’m not ignoring you, it’s just that—”
“I know,” she said. “You’re mending fences, and it’s a good thing. Where’s Mama?”
“She’s dressing.”
Drake remembered how long it took her to dress during his previous visit and figured he’d starve before he got a chance to eat. But she swept into the living room, embraced her daughter and then Drake. He could see from Phelps’s expression that the man would prefer that he didn’t hug his wife. He ignored the man and gave Delta the greeting that an attractive woman deserved.
If he’s stupid enough to think I’d make a pass at my girlfriend’s mother, let him sweat.
“I settle for three courses normally, but this is a special occasion.” She raised her glass of champagne. “To my husband, the man I love and who loves me. May I stay here as long as you and leave when you go. Happy birthday, dear.”
After dinner, Phelps opened his gifts, a digital camera from Pamela, a set of encyclopedias of the English and Russian languages from Delta and a gold tooled leather travel kit from Drake.
“Well, I hit the jackpot. All of you gave me something that I can keep forever.” He spoke directly to Drake. “You’re a gracious man. Thank you.” Then he caressed the encyclopedias. “Delta knows I’ve wanted these for a long time. I translate…er…texts for the government as a consultant.” From that, Drake gathered that the man handled secret computer-related materials.
Phelps went to the piano and ran his fingers over the keys. “Anybody willing to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me? I don’t mind playing, but danged if I’ll sing to myself.”
Drake cleared his throat and reached for Pamela’s hand. “Can you sing in the key of F?” She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
When they finished singing the familiar song, Phelps opened the piano bench to look for sheet music. “You’ve got some voice, there, Drake. I won’t insult you by asking why you didn’t pursue voice as a career, since it’s obvious that you followed your preference. Do you know ‘Mariah’? ‘They call the wind Maria’?”
“I haven’t sung it since college, but I’ll try.”
He sang the song twice because Delta asked him to, and found that he enjoyed the singing, because it gave them a pleasant way to pass the evening. “I’m finished now,” he said. “‘O Holy Night’ and Brahms’s ‘Lullaby’ are the only things I’d ever heard Pamela sing.” He looked at her and winked. “How about singing ‘Villia’?” She obliged, and the evening sped away. Intent on being circumspect, he kissed Pamela’s lips quickly in her parents’ presence and told them all good-night.
I hope to hell I don’t walk in my sleep, he said to himself, showered and went to bed.
The knock on his door shortly after six the next morning startled him. He was about to say “Come in” when he realized it could be one of Pamela’s parents. He got up, put on a robe and wrapped it tightly, opened the door and looked into Phelps Langford’s face.
“Good morning. Glad to see that I didn’t awaken you. It’s a good morning for fishing, and I thought you and I might go out and catch a few. Digger’s Brook is only about a few miles down the road, and the trout’s good right now. Or we could go down to the San Antonio River, but the catch isn’t half as good. I’ve got breakfast just about ready, and Delta and Pamela will sleep till ten. We can be back by then.”
Drake rubbed his fingers over the bristles on his chin and opened his eyes a little wider, aware that Phelps hadn’t expected to find Pamela in his room. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Good. I like a man who doesn’t waste his life in bed.”
The compliment was lost on him, for he wanted nothing more than to crawl back in that bed and sleep for hours. He brushed his teeth, shaved, splashed water over his face, put on his clothes and made it to the kitchen in eleven minutes.
Phelps placed a platter of scrambled eggs, country sausage and bacon, biscuits and individual bowls of grits on the table, poured two glasses of orange juice and looked at Drake. “Coffee now or later? You Yankees are peculiar about when you get your coffee.”
Drake had always thought Maryland was a Southern state. “I’m not. I want it as soon as I open my eyes.”
The smile on Phelps’s face lit up his eyes, and he knew he’d like the man if only because his daughter looked so much like him. “I’ve already had two cups.” He put a wooden trivet on the table and set the coffeepot on it. “My wife uses one of those electronic coffeemakers, but I perk mine the old-fashioned way—right on top of the stove.”
Drake poured himself a cup, blew it, took a sip and smiled with pleasure. “Best coffee I’ve had in years. I haven’t done much fly-fishing, but I’d like to try.”
“Well, it takes practice, so we’ll go downstream and cast for mullets or catfish. How’s that?”
“Suits me as long as it’s relaxing. I try to keep my weekends as free of stress as possible. Enough of that when I’m on the job.”
It surprised him that he found talking with Pamela’s father easy. And the man could cook. “These biscuits are ready to walk. Wonderful! Who made them?”
Phelps stopped eating, rested his fork on the side of his plate and stared at Drake. “Who do you think made them? Delta can’t even fry corn bread. She’s great at fancy cooking, but don’t ask her to cook a pot of grits. I’ve tried to figure out how to ruin grits, and I don’t see how it’s possible, but Delta manages every time.”
“Hats off to you, man. I don’t suppose it matters who cooks as long as there’s someone in the house who does it well enough to prevent starvation.”
“Right. Can you cook?”
“Sure. I’m a scientist. Give me a recipe book, and I can make anything in it. And I can cook grits.”
He changed from sneakers to boots while Phelps cleaned the kitchen, and at a quarter of seven they headed for Digger’s Brook in Phelps Langford’s Buick LeSabre.
“Nobody around here to go fishing with,” Phelps said. “I didn’t have brothers or buddies growing up, my older sister treated me as if I were her toy and now I can’t make close friends because of my work. Friends ask questions, and when they don’t get answers, they provide their own. You know what I’m saying?”
He did, indeed. The man was saying that he’d had a lot of lonely hours. “After Pamela was born, we tried for some more, but we weren’t lucky. The problem was with me, not Delta.” He turned into a little dirt road and parked under a tree. “I’m hoping Pamela will give us some grandchildren before I get too old to enjoy them.”
The best thing for me to do is ignore that last statement, and I hope he doesn’t put it more pointedly than that. Drake directed the conversation away from himself. “Why didn’t you have buddies, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“We lived in the suburbs, and our house was about half a mile from the next one. The property also had a high fence and a big iron gate, thanks to my dad’s paranoia about theft and privacy.”
They prepared their rods for fishing and Phelps took two folding chairs from the trunk and placed them at the edge of the brook. “Might as well be comfortable,” he said.
Drake dug around in his mind for references to the name Langford, found none and asked, “Was your father well-known?”
“He’s still living. He was a famous Olympian in the nineteen-thirties, and he owns a company that produces a popular brand of canned fruits and bottled juices. He’s also difficult to live around.”
They cast their lines, and he sat back in the chair and enjoyed the cool and refreshing morning breeze. “How far are your parents from here?”
“They’re up in Amarillo, thank God. I’d like to see my mother more often, but a little of my dad goes a long way with me. I’m sixty-five, and he’ll immediately start telling me what’s wrong with my life and how to live it. Pamela tells me you have a wonderful family.”
“I have, and I am grateful for that. Russ, my second-oldest brother, is getting married in a few weeks, and we all like his fiancée. She’s our older brother’s sister-in-law. Telford—he’s my oldest brother—has a wonderful wife, a godsend to all of us, a wonderful big sister. Our house had been a huge bachelor pad for four men—us and our cook and surrogate father—and she and her wonderful six-year-old daughter made it a real home.”
He saw the red ball on his line bobbing in the water and jerked the line. “Hey, there’s a fish here.” He reeled in a catfish of at least three pounds, put it in the bucket and cast again.
They talked until the sun began to make them uncomfortable. Phelps opened the bucket. “Let’s see what we’ve got in here. Hmm. Not bad. Three catfish and four mullets. Haven’t done this well in a long time. I’m ready to go if you are. They must be wondering where we are.”
At this point, Drake’s concern was about who would scale the fish, for he didn’t know how to begin. “I’ll take these out back, skin the catfish and scale the mullets,” Phelps said. “By the time Delta and Pamela get up, I’ll have ’em iced down.”
“While you’re doing that, I’ll heat up the coffee. You want a cup?”
“Wouldn’t mind it a bit.”
He warmed the coffee, filled two mugs and headed toward the back deck. It occurred to him that Phelps Langford needed a male friend, but would willingly settle for a companionable son-in-law. Well, he didn’t mind filling in, but no one should think he could be lured into anything. He’d follow his own lights, though it was a relief to know that the man was likable and that he was enjoyable company. He opened the screen door and stepped out onto the deck, and his eyes widened when Phelps nailed the catfish’s tail to a plank of wood, picked up a knife and pulled the skin off.
“Here’s your coffee. I had no idea that those fish had skin rather than scales.”
“So you’re both out here. Where’s the coffee, honey?” He looked up to see Delta standing in the doorway looking like a model who had a date with a photographer. He hoped Pamela didn’t feel the need to look perfect every minute of the day.
“We drank it all. The pot’s on the stove.”
Delta went back into the house and after about ten minutes, Pamela came through the door, moving as if she had to drag herself. “Hi. Mama said you’ve already been fishing.” She seemed to squint at him when she said, “Did my daddy get you up at five this morning?”
“No. He waited another hour. But not to worry, I enjoyed the world as it was before other humans polluted it.”
Phelps stopped scaling the last mullet and looked up at him. “Heavens, I thought maybe you were already up.”
He looked at the man and couldn’t prevent the grin that spread over his face. “You’re kidding.”
Phelps returned to his task. “Well, you certainly were gracious about it.”
“I enjoyed it once I got my eyes open, and I certainly enjoyed the fishing.”
“Unless you have some plans, I’ll fry these up for lunch, a real fish fry right over there on that grill I built.”
Pamela moved closer to him, and he observed her closely to see if she was trying to tell him something. But she only wanted him to know she was glad he was beside her. He looked down at her and squeezed her hand. “Does he think we can eat those five big fish?”
“He’ll bake some corn bread and stew some collards, and we will eat every tiny piece of that fish. Daddy is great at frying fish.”
Her pride in her father touched him, and he was glad they had come to terms. “If he’ll fry ’em, I will definitely eat my fill. Do we have time to ride over to see the Coopers before lunch?”
Her eyes seemed to beseech him. “We could, but it would be awkward. Selena wouldn’t let us leave in time to get back here for lunch. Do you mind?”
He didn’t mind, and he realized that making her happy and secure with him was by far the most important thing he could do at that stage of their relationship. “Of course not.”
It occurred to him that Phelps, too, was putting forth a lot of effort to ensure a pleasant weekend when he said, “After lunch, we could rest a couple of hours in case you need to catch up on your sleep, and then we can go over to the club and swim. If you want to play tennis in this scorching heat, you can do that, too. Me, I just want a swim.”
“Sounds good to me. What about you?” Drake asked Pamela, who hadn’t moved from his side.
“I’d love to swim, but no tennis for me this afternoon.” She tugged at his hand. “Come on. I’ll get you another cup of coffee.” He’d had three cups already, but if she wanted to be alone with him, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“I’ve had enough coffee this morning,” he told her, leaning against the kitchen table, “but I’ll take anything else you’re offering.” Her arms went around him, and she raised her face for his kiss. Looking down at her, it occurred to him that he was happy, that he felt balanced, as if he were at last centered. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over the seam of her lips. She pulled his tongue into her waiting mouth, and as if he’d touched a live wire, electricity flashed through him. He tightened his grip on her and loved her until the feel of her hands pushing against his chest surprised him.
“Wh—?”
“I th…think Daddy just passed the door, and I didn’t want him to get a shock on his way back.”
He could only shake his head in wonder. “I forgot where we were. Woman, you’re dangerous.” He tried to make light of it, but she had stopped him in good time, because hot blood had begun to heat his loins and he would have been hard-pressed to control his reaction. “I’m not usually so careless. If I’ve got two free hours, I can take a nap.” The feel of her lips brushing the side of his mouth didn’t soothe his aroused state.
“Good idea. See you later.”
He awakened an hour and a half later, refreshed. What he wouldn’t give to be able to dive into a pool right then! He put on a pair of white slacks and a yellow T-shirt, followed the sound of voices to the back porch and noted with gratitude that the glass panels were closed and the place air-conditioned. He could do without the Texas heat.
Phelps came in from the garden. “You’re in good time. I just put the last batch of fish in the pan, and everything else is ready. How’d you sleep?”
Drake resisted a yawn. “Like a baby.”
“We’ll eat right out here. I’ll set up the table in a minute.”
Phelps went about his tasks, and Drake decided to find Pamela and get some answers to questions that had plagued him all day. He found her in the basement watching television and knitting.
“Hi. Is your father the man I’m seeing last night and today or the one I saw when I was here before?”
She returned her knitting to its basket and flipped off the television. “I hope you slept well.”
“I did. Thanks. About your father.”
“He’s both people. He can get as testy as anybody, and he has a temper that rarely shows itself, but…I’d say ninety-eight percent of the time he’s the man you’ve seen on this visit. He admitted that he sized you up completely wrong and acted on that basis. Also, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he did some research on you, because he’s a thorough person.”
“You mean to say that, when I was here before, he took one look at me and decided that I wasn’t worth your time?”
“Right. And Mama and I read him the law. Still, he’s decided that he likes you, and I’m certain of that, because there is not a phony bone in his body.”
Phelps yelled down to them. “Come on up. Lunch is ready.”
When Drake tasted the crispy fried fish, he had to admit that he’d never eaten better. Phelps preened when he told them so. He ate as much as he could, relaxed and waited until he could eat more. “I’d like to know how you cooked this.”
“The secret is the open flame and the black-iron skillet. I mix flour, yellow corn meal, salt, pepper and some Cajun spice, rinse the fish, roll it in the mixture and fry it. I use canola oil for frying. That’s all.”
“Excuse me.” He went to his room, got a piece of notepaper and wrote down the recipe. “We have an outdoor brick oven and grill, and if Henry can’t prepare this, I will. Thanks.”
Later, driving the rented Cadillac, he tailed Phelps to the club and at last was able to swim in the Olympic-size pool. He liked the atmosphere and thought it was the next best thing to having a pool in back of your house. He swam three laps, then stretched out on one of the chaise lounges and closed his eyes.
“I’m not moving until you tell me who you are and where I can find you.”
His eyelids flew open and he stared at the mostly naked woman sitting on the edge of his chair and wearing the tiniest bikini he’d ever seen. His first thought was of what Phelps Langford would think if he saw that woman sitting there.
He glowered at her and could feel the anger flaring up in him. “I’d appreciate it if you would get up this second.”
“Oh, don’t be mean,” she said, molding her face into a pout.
“Unless you want me to turn this chair over with you sitting on it, get up. I’m not one bit interested.”
“Don’t tell me you’re gay.”
He got up, resisted kicking the chair, whirled around and almost knocked Pamela down. His hand shot out in time to prevent her fall. “Am I glad to see you!” he said, holding her to his body.
“Oh, dear! Pamela, how are you? Are you and John still an item? Please tell me who this gorgeous hunk is.”
He nearly laughed at the expression on Pamela’s face. Irate hardly described it. “If he wanted you to know who he was, he’d have told you when you threw yourself at him.” She put her arm through his. “Come with me, sweetheart. I’d like a change of scenery.”
A few steps away, he saw Phelps standing with his legs wide apart, his arms folded across his chest and an unpleasant scowl on his face. Uh-oh. Just what he’d feared. Well, he was over twenty-one and paid his own bills. Phelps would have to learn not to jump the gun.
“What was that about?” Phelps asked. “I never saw such brazenness in my life.”
“She did what you did, Daddy—took one look at Drake and decided he was a playboy. I got there in time to keep him from dumping her on the concrete floor.”
“It would have served her right,” Phelps said. “Sometimes I don’t know what to make of these modern women.”
Delta’s response was a shrug. “Oh, the poor girl is probably lonely.”
Phelps hadn’t simmered down. “And well she should be. What man wants his woman to display herself that way? Nice-looking girl like that making herself cheap.”
Drake laughed. He couldn’t help it. Phelps had certainly catalogued that woman’s assets. Methinks you protest too much, buddy, he said to himself in the manner of Shakespeare. The woman sauntered past them slowly as if to make sure that Drake saw her, but only his peripheral gaze captured her, for he was too busy observing Pamela. He had never seen a woman more vexed, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“Aren’t we supposed to attend a garden party next week?” he asked her, not that he welcomed the prospect; he didn’t. He wanted to divert her attention from the black vixen who had waded into her space not once, but twice.
“Uh…what? Oh, yes, the garden party. That’s Saturday, and wear your hard-hat outfit.”
“Wear my… Hey, wait there. I didn’t do anything to set you off. If you’re going to react this way to every little tactless airhead who appears on the scene, I might as well take a hike. I could be a dozen other places, but I’m down here in this stifling Texas heat just to be with you. That ought to tell you something. If you don’t trust me, lay it out for me right now, and I’m out of here.”
“I’m sorry, Drake, but these women get on my nerves.”
“You think they don’t get on mine? I detest it, but I’m not going to blow a fuse over it.”
“I trust you, and I am not jealous. What gets my dander up is the temerity of these women. She saw me with you when we walked in here, and she’s known me since I was in kindergarten. The idea of suggesting that I have something going on with John when she knows better! How dare she! I felt like telling her to go to hell.”
“Yeah. You looked as if you had a worse punishment than that in mind. Where’s your father?”
She pointed over her shoulder. “Over there watching the whole thing.”
“Let him watch. As long as he doesn’t judge me on the basis of the way in which strangers react to me, we’ll get along. And I hope he’s shrewd enough to know that.”