Читать книгу After the Loving - Gwynne Forster - Страница 8

Velma Brighton zipped up the mauve-colored, strapless silk-and-lace gown, fastened a strand of eight-millimeter pearls at her neck, and forced herself to look in the floor-length mirror that leaned against the wall. Grimacing at the sight of her more than amply rounded figure in the fitted gown, she cringed with embarrassment.

“Now, he’ll know what I really look like,” she said to herself, lamenting the fact that she couldn’t wear her usual caftan and wishing that she was tall and slender. As she stared at the mirror, she saw not only her own likeness, but a reflection of the groves of snow and icicle-laden trees on the north side of Harrington House that created an idyllic dream world. For a better look, she walked over to the window of the guest room she occupied and fixed her gaze on the broad expanse of snow-covered beauty, shaking her head in wonder at the sunlight dancing against the icicles. No bride could ask for a more beautiful wedding day.

This was her fifth or sixth visit to Harrington House, an enormous red-brick colonial set off by a great circular driveway, dominating John Brown Drive in Eagle Park, Maryland. She first visited it in order to be with her sister, Alexis, but on each subsequent trip to visit her sister, her heart had fluttered wildly in her eagerness to see Russ Harrington again. And though he always welcomed her, often being especially attentive, she didn’t think she’d made much headway with him.

She checked her hair and make-up and went downstairs to the rooms her sister occupied with her five-year-old daughter, Tara.

“How do I look, Aunt Velma?” Tara asked the minute Velma walked into the room.

“Beautiful. You’ll be the perfect flower girl.”

Smiles enveloped Tara’s face. “My mummy said I looked, uh…spec…spec…what, Mummy?”

“Spectacular.”

Velma regarded her sister—tall, willowy and beautiful in the ivory-colored silk-satin-and-lace wedding gown. “I was a little surprise when you said you’d wear white, but I’m glad you did.”

“Telford asked if I would—he wanted a traditional wed ding. I wasn’t going to deny him because of a foolish convention that a divorced or widowed woman shouldn’t wear white at a subsequent marriage. Brides wore white traditionally because they were virgins. Honey, that was then. Telford’s never been married, and he deserves a good old-fashioned wedding if that’s to his liking.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I ever saw,” Velma said. “Just wait till Telford sees you. The poor man’s heart will jump right out of his chest.”

“I certainly hope not,” Alexis said, adjusting her tiara. “I haven’t seen him since last night, and it seems like years.”

“You’re not supposed to see the groom on your wedding day until you meet him at the altar. You know that.”

“I do know it. I just wish I could see him. Velma, I can’t believe this is happening to me. I’m…I’m so happy. If I’m not careful, I’ll bawl.”

“You won’t. It’s not your style.” She reached up to Alexis with open arms. “I’m happy for you, sis. After all you suffered with Jack, you deserve this wonderful man. Turn around and let me fasten these buttons. I never could figure out why they put these tiny things on the back of a wedding dress, unless it’s to frustrate the groom when he tries to get the gown off the bride.”

She loved Alexis’s low, sultry laugh when she said, “I hope to have him in such a state that he’ll rip ’em off.”

Velma stopped her task and wondered aloud, “Would he do that? Good Lord, how exciting! I would never have believed him capable of it.”

“Can’t judge a book by its cover, hon, nor a man by his height. And that’s gospel. Seen Russ today?”

Velma shrugged as if didn’t matter, but it did. “Not since last night. If he ate breakfast, he did it before I went downstairs. That man is an enigma. Last night, he laughed, joked and teased with me, and this morning, he acted as if I wasn’t in the house.”

Alexis placed a hand on her sister’s arm. “Understanding Russ may prove to be a full-time job, Velma. He’s tough and sometimes he seems cynical, but dig deeper. He’s loving, caring and if he tells you he’ll do something, he does it.”

“I believe that, but—”

In the act of inspecting the long white leather gloves she planned to wear, Alexis stopped, threw them on the bed and stared at her older sister. “I want you to listen to me. No buts. Russ is straight. What you see is exactly what you get. Don’t bother to look for hidden meanings either in his words or his actions. There won’t be any. What you see is exactly what you get.”

“Not many people are like that. I guess he’s too ornery to be dishonest.”

“No,” Alexis said. “Russ is too self-assured to lie or to be devious. Pay attention to him if you want him, otherwise forget it. When it comes to Russ, those notions about how to get a man aren’t worth the mental energy required to remember them.”

“I know he’s special,” Velma said. She finished buttoning the dress, checked its hem and train. Her happiness for her sister was boundless, but she couldn’t help wishing for Alexis’s beauty, her flawless figure and her self-confidence.

“I’ve been a bridesmaid half a dozen times,” Velma said, “each of which was increasingly painful for me. This is the last time I’m doing it. It hurts too badly.”

“Aunt Velma, has Grant come yet?” Tara asked of Grant Roundtree, her friend and the son of Adam Roundtree and Melissa Grant-Roundtree.

“I didn’t see him, but don’t worry—it’s a bit too early for the Roundtrees.”

“My mummy said he’s the ring bearer. Can Mr. Telford and my mummy get married if Grant doesn’t bring the rings?”

“He’ll be there,” Alexis said. “Anyway, we can get married without rings, although I wouldn’t like to. But relax. Grant will be here on time.”

“Yes, ma’am. You already told me to relax four times. How do I do it?”

“Excuse me for a few minutes,” Velma said, and made her way down the corridor toward the stairs.

“Well, now don’t you look real special?” Henry said as he met her near the bottom of the stairs.

“Thanks, Henry. What about you? You look great. With that tux on, you could snare a princess.”

“Yeah? If I believed you, I’d get out of this monkey suit fast as I could.”

“Did…er…re—” Velma began tentatively, so that Henry wouldn’t think her question important.

He second guessed her anyway. “The boys ate breakfast in town this morning. Drake and Russ had to keep a lid on Tel. Never saw anybody so shook up about getting married as Alexis and Tel.” With an expression of reverence, he glanced toward the ceiling, then smiled, a rarity for him. “They’re meant for each other sure as my name is Henry Wooten.”

Velma started up the stairs. “What are you going up there for?” he asked her. “Ain’t gonna be nobody up there but you. Stop worrying about him. Can’t nobody second-guess Russ.”

“I’m not worrying about him.”

“You are so, and he won’t appreciate it. You listen to what I say. You hear?”

First Alexis and now Henry lectured her on how to deal with Russ. Life didn’t revolve around that man; not so far, anyway. “Thanks, Henry. I’ll…uh…see you later.”

Inside her room, she closed the door and, for a minute, had an urge to lock it. Fighting back moroseness, she admonished herself sharply.

It’s her day, so put a smile on your face and grin if it kills you. For years, you’ve gone alone to the movies, theaters and concerts. You’re used to it, girl, used to having no one to hold you when you hurt, no one to love you when you can’t stand being alone. Nothing has changed. Not one damned thing.

No. Everything remained as it had been. Except the joy, the happiness Alexis radiated when she mentioned Telford’s name. She wanted that joy, that happiness, that knowledge that she belonged to a man who belonged to her.

“I gotta snap out of this,” she told herself as she got a small lavender-colored handkerchief and folded it into the palm of her left hand. She dabbed some Hermès perfume behind her ears and at her wrists, inhaled its elegant scent and went back to Alexis and Tara. She entered the room as Alexis picked up the telephone receiver.

“Hello. Alexis speaking.”

“Hello, sweetheart. Russ, Drake and I are leaving for the church. The stretched-out white Lincoln Town Car out front is for you, Velma, Henry and Tara. The Roundtrees will meet us at the church. Can you believe that in an hour and a half you’ll be my wife? Baby, I can’t wait.”

“Me, neither. Drive carefully.”

“Russ is driving, and you know he wouldn’t consider breaking the speed limit.”

Alexis treated him to a deep, throaty laugh, a happy laugh. “I know. Tell him I said he’s carrying precious cargo, so he shouldn’t go beyond sixty.”

“I’ll tell him that, for all the good it’ll do. I love you, woman. See you.”

“And I love you.”

Velma listened to that side of the conversation and couldn’t do one thing about the ache that settled inside of her. An ache that would vanish for all time if she had Russell Harrington and three children who looked just like him.

Henry met them at the front door, handed a bouquet of mauve and pink calla lilies to Velma and a bouquet of white ones to Alexis. “From Tel and Russ. You can figure out who sent what to whom,” he said, and added: “Thank you, Alexis, for the honor of letting me escort you and give you to Tel. You’re my daughter now, and it’ll be the proudest moment of my life.”

An hour and a half later, bells of the Eagle Park Presbyterian Church in Eagle Park, Maryland, began to peal, and Velma stepped behind Alexis, straightened the train of her dress, adjusted Tara’s mauve-pink hat and Grant’s bow tie, kissed her sister’s cheek and headed toward the altar.

Walking up the aisle that was banked on both sides with white calla lilies, she knew her face was devoid of emotion, reflecting neither her happiness for her sister nor the loneliness that was her interminable visitor. She took her place at the altar, made almost surrealistically beautiful and magical with dozens of lighted white candles, white calla lilies and white rosebuds. When she could no longer avoid it, she let her gaze find Russ who, as Telford’s older brother, served as best man. Drake served as groom.

She knew Russ heard her audible gasp, for a slow-moving smile formed around his mouth seconds before he greeted her. Granted it was a solemn occasion, but there was no need to behave as if they were in a morgue. Her composure once more in order, she let the smile that came from her heart light up her face.

To her, Russ stood out among men, tall, tough and handsome, but in that black tuxedo and mauve-colored accessories—the uniform for every male in the wedding party, including Grant—he took her breath away. Although he stood with his brothers, themselves imposing men by any standard, she barely looked at them. And when Russ caught her ogling him and winked at her, she lowered her gaze in embarrassment.

Russ shifted his glance from her face to a spot somewhere below her left elbow. She looked down and realized he wanted her to know that Tara and Grant stood beside her solemnly holding hands. She heard the tune, “Here Comes the Bride,” held her head up and smiled at Telford, for her heart seemed to overflow with joy.

“Who gives this woman to be wed?” the minister asked.

Henry’s voice, strong and not quite steady, replied, “I do.” He kissed Alexis, placed her hand in Telford’s and took his seat beside Adam Roundtree.

Velma watched Telford and her sister exchange their vows, speaking directly to each other and looking at each other as if they were alone. She realized that in their hearts, they were alone. The minister asked for the rings so that he could bless them, and Grant released Tara’s hand, walked up to the minister and said, “Here they are, sir.”

Velma’s eyebrows shot up. She forced back a grin, took pains to avoid looking at any of the adults who stood around the altar, for no one told Grant to say that. Yet, it seemed so appropriate. He stepped back to Tara, reached for her hand and held it. Finally, the minister pronounced Telford and Alexis husband and wife. They enfolded each other in a joyous embrace as they laughed, hugged and cried.

As if she didn’t want to be left out, Tara tapped on Telford’s leg. He looked down at her, grinned, and lifted her into his arms to the applause of the wedding guests.

“Is this what you meant by ‘working it out,’ Mr. Telford?”

He hugged her. “This is exactly what I meant.”

“And we can be together now, you and Mummy and me?”

“Yes. That’s what it means.”

Her arms tightened around Telford’s neck, then she kissed his cheek. “I have to tell Grant I was right.” He set her on her feet, and she went back to Grant who immediately reached for her hand. With Tara and Grant walking ahead of them, the bride and groom smiled and waved to their guests as they walked away from the altar. Her eyes glittering with tears of happiness, Velma looked up into Russ Harrington’s face as he held out his arm to her, his smile as radiant as she knew her own had to be. She nearly tripped, but he tightened his grip.

“It was the most moving thing I’ve ever experienced,” he said in low tones. “I’m happy for them.”

“I am, too. It was… I can’t describe it.” She said silent thanks that he didn’t see her face, for she knew that all she felt—happiness, pain and loneliness—were mirrored in her eyes.

I’ll be back on track as soon as I can get away from Eagle Park and this man whose arm I’m holding. I don’t want his casual friendship. I want him.

Russ held the door of his car, seated Velma in the front passenger’s seat, and left Henry and Drake to make themselves comfortable in the back. Tara and Grant rode with the bride and groom.

“You want to offer the first toast, Drake?” Russ asked as he moved the Mercedes away from the curb and headed for the reception.

“That’s your job, brother,” Drake said. “I’ll do the honors when you tie the knot.”

“If that ever happens,” Henry put in. “You both shoulda seen how happy Tel is. Now maybe you’ll figure out how to get some of that happiness for yourselves.”

“Don’t bring that up, Henry,” Drake said. “I’m not interested in walking the remainder of the way to the reception.”

“Would he put us out?” Velma asked with a tone of wonder in her voice.

“Maybe not you. I’m taking no chances,” Drake said.

Henry sucked his teeth loudly enough for all of them to hear. “He ain’t putting nobody out. I raised him to have manners. Just because he can’t stand foolishness, don’t mean he’d screw up Tel’s wedding reception.”

“What’s going on back there, Velma?” he asked the quiet woman beside him. “After living with me for thirty-some years, you’d think they’d know what a real pussycat I am.”

“Which feline family you talking about, brother? Surely not the house variety.”

“Do they always meddle with you like this?” Velma asked him, and he got the impression from her tone of voice that she didn’t like it.

He turned into the driveway leading to the Eagle Park Palace Hotel. “The three of us jostle all the time, and because Henry practically raised us, he reserves the right to say whatever appears on the tip of his tongue, but if my finger began to bleed, all of them would run to me with Band-Aids. That’s what this family is all about, Velma. We’re here for each other.”

She looked great, and he felt good walking through the hotel lobby with her holding his arm while the crowd of onlookers waved and smiled. “You should wear this color all the time,” he told her. “And this style suits you. I like it better than your caftans. You…you look terrific.”

“Thanks, but maybe you need glasses.”

He stopped and looked hard at her. “You’re telling me I don’t know my own mind, that I don’t know what I like and don’t like? I’ll tell you this—I do not like those caftans you wear. Dressed like this, you look like a real woman.”

If she was posturing for more praise, she could forget it. He wasn’t in the business of building egos with empty phrases.

Just what I needed to keep my head straightened out. He walked on with her but didn’t offer her his arm. They joined Telford and Alexis in an anteroom, and he watched a subdued Velma embrace her sister and her brother-in-law.

“My mummy is going off with Mr. Telford on a honeymoon. What does a honeymoon look like, Mr. Telford?”

“I’ll…uh…find out while I’m there and explain it when we get back.”

Russ snickered. It wasn’t often that he saw his older brother squirm and loosen his collar.

“Time for the party to enter the reception room,” the manager told them.

They stood around the table laden with the wedding cake, calla lilies and glowing candles. Russ stepped up and raised his glass. “It gives me the greatest pleasure to introduce to you Telford and Alexis Harrington.” After the applause, he continued. “To my brother and his wife. May you always be as deeply in love as you are this day.” He let the champagne drizzle down his throat, set his glass down and moved aside.

Drake held up his glass. “I thank my brother for giving me such a wonderful sister and a niece who I adore as if she were my own child. Telford and Alexis, God bless you with a long and happy life.”

It was Henry’s turn. “This is one of the happiest days of my life. Take care of each other, and grow old together in peace and love.” He took a few sips and set the glass aside.

Russ motioned to the orchestra, and Telford waltzed onto the center of the floor with his bride in his arms. His turn, but he felt a little shaky about it. He figured it would pay him to keep his distance from Velma, though he didn’t discount his strong attraction to her. He preferred independent, self-assured women, and Velma had just showed signs of a lack of self-confidence, at least with him. He liked the company of mature people who knew who they were and where they belonged. However, as custom demanded, he stepped in front of Velma and opened his arms. “Dance with me?” he asked her, for he didn’t believe in taking anything for granted.

She smiled, lifted the hem of her gown and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks. I’d love to dance with you.” She danced well, he realized, a point in her favor, for he loved to dance.

The manager announced that dinner was served and that dancing would continue later. After dinner, Russ said to Velma, “Drake’s car is in the hotel garage. If you wish to stay, he’ll drive you home along with Tara and Henry. I’m driving Telford and Alexis to the airport in Baltimore as soon as they change clothes. I can drop you by Harrington House, but no one will be there with you till Drake gets back.”

She thought for a couple of seconds and quickly made up her mind. He liked that. Nothing got on his nerves faster than shilly-shallying.

“I’ll go back with Drake,” she said. “Drive carefully. Will you come back to Eagle Park tonight?”

“Yes, but it will be late. I’ll see you in the morning.” To his own surprise, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It was fun. Good night.”

He could take her with him, and maybe he should, but if he did, it would seem that she was his date, and he wasn’t ready for what that would imply. He walked over to Telford and tapped his elbow.

“Alexis will blow a fuse if I speed, so we’d better get started. Check-in time is an hour and a half from now. Say your goodbyes, man.”

It amused him when Alexis, who stood within hearing distance, said, “If he spoke to all these people, we’d miss the plane. Everybody thinks newlyweds are off-the-wall anyway, so why don’t we just sneak out? I’ve already prepared Tara. Let’s go.”

“Woman after my own heart, brother. Meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Telford clapped his hands. “Unmarried ladies to the right please.” About a dozen women including Velma gathered there. Alexis tossed her bridal bouquet, and Adam Roundtree’s cousin caught it.

As Russ was leaving the reception hall, he glanced to his right, toward the spot where he last saw Velma, and noticed that her gaze followed him. His heart battled with his will in a fight to which he was entirely unaccustomed. He stopped, turned and walked over to her.

“Do you want to ride with me? I’ll drop them at the airport and head directly to Eagle Park. Do you want to go?”

She gazed steadily up at him, almost as if trying to see inside of him, to divine his motive. He wasn’t accustomed to that Velma—serious, standing her ground and doing it without the props of wit and quips. He spread his hands palms out, telling her without words, “what you see is what you get.” Suddenly, a smile enveloped her face, and relief flooded him, though he could not imagine why.

“I’d love to go, Russ.”

No silliness such as “if you’re sure you don’t mind” or “if it won’t inconvenience you.” Straight from the shoulder. She wanted to go with him, and she didn’t mind letting him know it. Another point in her favor. He liked a woman who let a man know what she wanted.

He took her hand. “Come on. I’ll tell Drake you’ll be home later.”

“Way to go, man,” Drake said, his voice well contained. “It’s the simple things that count—they can make you or break you.”

“Yeah. It’s easy to forget that.”

“Would you like me to get a vase for your flowers?” Russ asked Velma.

“Thanks, but each stem is in its own little water cup.” She gazed up at him. “You’re a thoughtful man, and it’s something I appreciate.”

He didn’t know what to make of that statement, so he let it go. Fortunately Telford and Alexis appeared, having changed into traveling clothes. To his amazement, neither of them seemed surprised to see Velma with him.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get this show moving. If we waste another minute, I’ll have to drive ninety miles an hour in order to get you to the airport on time.”

“Don’t tax yourself, brother,” Telford said. “I can get us there driving fifty-five or sixty, so if you’d rather I drove…”

Russ couldn’t help laughing. “All right. All right.” He buckled Velma’s seat belt. “You two buckle up back there.” He ignited the engine and headed for Route 70. He didn’t feel the need to talk; most any subject would take him down from where he was. He didn’t want anything to blight his mood. How many times had he feared Telford would let Alexis slip through his hands? It took him a long time to concede Drake’s point, that Telford was a different man when he was in Alexis’s company, that he had never known Telford to be truly happy until he fell in love with Alexis and Tara. It was an incontestable truth; they belonged together.

He glanced at Velma, who sat beside him serenely with her hands relaxed and the bouquet lying in her lap. “Thank God, she doesn’t feel the need to chatter,” he said to himself. He flipped on the radio and out came the strains of “Will You Dance This Waltz With Me?” As if of its own volition, his head turned toward Velma and, at the same time, she looked toward him. A grin formed around her lips, and then she laughed. He didn’t ask her why she laughed, because he knew. It was the reason why he also laughed. They could duck it as much and as often as they liked, but something would always remind them.

“I won’t ask what the two of you are laughing about,” Telford said.

“Oh, you can ask,” Russ replied, “but it won’t do you much good.”

“What if I ask?” Alexis put in.

“Won’t do you any good either,” Velma said.

That wasn’t the first notice she had given that she would support him, that she’d be there for him if he needed her. He recorded it in his mental notebook. A long-term arrangement with her wasn’t on his agenda, but he had to reckon with it because her attraction for him was nothing to gainsay. He wanted her, but he wasn’t sure he was willing to pay the price.

“You’re here with twenty minutes to spare,” he said to Telford when they reached the Baltimore International Airport.

“What was his top speed, Velma?” Telford asked.

“My lips are sealed. You two have the time of your lives.”

“We’ll do our best,” Alexis said.

“Thanks, brother, for everything. I’ll finish thanking you when we get back.”

Driving away from the airport, Russ found himself thinking of a way to end what, for him, had been a perfect day. “We’ve got about an hour and forty-minute drive ahead of us, Velma. Would you like to stop somewhere for some kind of beverage and a snack? I don’t drink anything alcoholic when I have to drive, but I could use some iced tea or a soft drink.”

“I’d love to stop,” she said. “Anyplace where this evening dress won’t look silly.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “No matter where we stop, your dress won’t look a bit sillier than this tux with mauve-colored accessories.”

She seemed disappointed, but she was good at bluffing, he saw, when she lifted her chin and said, “I remember you said you liked this gown I’m wearing. Well, it’s mauve, too.”

“I like it on you.”

She didn’t let him drop it. “It’s not more outlandish than the brilliant red or royal blue accessories that some men wear with formal dress. Besides, you look fantastic in that getup. I was practically ogling you when we were waiting for the bride to reach the altar.”

“Really? Thanks for the compliment.” He knew she’d stood there cataloging his assets until he caught her at it and looked her straight in the eye, but he didn’t think she’d be comfortable knowing he was aware of her uninhibited admiration.

“What do you say we stop at the first drive-in restaurant on Route 70? Give ’em something to talk about in there.”

“Fine with me.”

A groan escaped him when he saw the long line. “You have a seat somewhere,” she said. “I’ll get what you want, and we’ll be out of here in twenty minutes.”

He stared at her. “I’d like to know how you plan to manage that.”

“Have a seat and you’ll see.”

He took out his wallet and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “I’d like a huge bottle of ginger ale and a blueberry muffin.” She saluted him, and he went to find a table, praying that he wouldn’t have to spring her from jail. In less than five minutes, she arrived at the table he chose holding her bouquet as if it were a baby, and followed by a busboy who carried their order. The busboy took the food off the tray and placed it on the table. Russ handed the man a five-dollar bill and thanked him.

“No problem, sir. Congratulations and much happiness.”

“What was he…?” He stared at Velma who was near convulsion with suppressed laughter. “How did you…?”

“I just went to the busboy and told him we were already late for the wedding. People heard me and it was like the opening of the Red Sea. They assumed I was the bride. The busboy ran behind the counter and collected what I wanted, took it to the cashier, I paid, and you know the rest. Here’s your change.”

When he could get his breath, he said, “Well, hell,” opened a bottle of ginger ale and was about to pour some in a glass for her when the humor of it struck him. He slumped in the chair and gave in to the laughter that rolled out of him. He knew that everybody in the restaurant was looking at them, but that seemed to make it all the funnier.

When they managed to control their laughter, he found her staring at him. “What is it? Did I get some blueberries on my teeth?”

“I never knew you to laugh like this. It is wonderful. Just…just wonderful.”

He sobered then. “Drake likes to call me ‘old sourpuss.’ Is that what you think of me?”

“That hadn’t occurred to me. In this context, I think of you as a serious-minded man who has a low tolerance for nonsense.” She lowered her head a little, and stole a glance at him. “Russ, I’ve been called a prankster, and I suppose you’d classify that as nonsense.”

“Most of it is nonsense, but if it’s witty, if it’s clever, that’s different—then it’s a challenge. However, that’s not an invitation for you to—”

She held up her right hand. “I know. I stand sufficiently warned. Still…” She let him wait for her next words, and he found himself anticipating them with heightened pleasure. “Uh…I can’t imagine myself not going to great lengths, if necessary, to make you laugh.”

“Yeah. A prankster would do that.” He pondered her words, but didn’t wonder why she enjoyed seeing him laugh. As frank as he was finding her to be, she’d probably tell him without any prompting.

Nonetheless, it gave him something to contemplate. “I never thought much about my personality or how it strikes others,” he said. “It’s who I am, and I can’t see myself pretending to be what I am not.”

Her left hand moved toward him, and he thought she would reach for his hand or, at least, touch it. But she almost snatched it back, and he realized that what he’d thought was insecurity could well be an uncertainty as to how to relate to him.

“Velma, I find that it never pays to try to figure out a person.”

“You think I’m trying to figure you out?”

“Aren’t you? You wanted to touch my hand, maybe even hold it to show the sympathetic understanding that you felt, but you weren’t certain how I’d react and you withdrew.”

“What would you have done, Russ, if I’d held your hand?”

“How many times tonight did I take your hand? Did I ask permission?”

Her eyes sparkled like a dozen night stars, and her face bloomed into a smile. “Russ, what you’re saying is like dangling money and jewels in front of a thief.”

He glanced at his watch, poured the remainder of the ginger ale into their glasses and took a sip. “Not quite. It means take a chance. Show me who you are, and I’ll reciprocate.”

“But not necessarily in a way that I’d like.”

He drained the glass. “True. But you have one thing going for you. We Harrington men respect women. Now, if we don’t get out of here, that busboy will know you handed him a line.”

“Right.”

When they stood to leave, the busboy appeared with a tray, cleared the table and let a grin take over his face. “Congratulations again, sir. This made my day.”

“You’ve been very kind,” Russ said. He wanted to get out of there before he folded up in another laughing fit. As they walked toward the door, the other diners applauded, and he could feel his lower lip drop when Velma waved and blew kisses to the people.

Deciding to play along, he slipped an arm around Velma’s waist, and while he didn’t succeed in keeping the grin off his face, he was able to resist howling with laugher until they got into the car.

“I never had so much fun in my life,” she said. “My sister wouldn’t dream of doing anything like that.” She shifted her position until she sat with her back partly against the door. “Wasn’t that fun?”

“Probably. I’ve never been tempted to do anything like that. I don’t know which cracked me up more, your arriving at the table with the busboy or blowing kisses at your fans.” He ignited the engine and headed for the highway. “Velma, you’re full of surprises. I had a very different picture of you, and I’m glad you agreed to come with me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Neither Henry, my brothers, nor Alexis would believe I’d participate in any harebrained thing like that.”

“Are you ashamed that we did it?”

“Who, me? No, indeed. I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun.”

“I’m glad, Russ. I’d like us to be friends.”

He came within a breath of asking her what kind of friends, and he was glad he corrected himself before the words slipped out. He finessed a response. “Why shouldn’t we be?”

When she didn’t answer his question, he considered it another point in her favor; she wouldn’t gainsay something was important to her. She stifled a yawn.

“Sleepy?” he asked her.

“Terribly. I was so keyed up when I went to bed that I was still awake at four-thirty this morning.”

“I won’t feel badly if you sleep.”

“But I will. If you talk, I’ll stay awake. What was it like being the middle of three boys when you were growing up?”

“Now that’s a topic for a cold night. Growing up and being an adult…it’s all the same. Telford and Drake are closest, because Telford was protective of Drake. So was I, for that matter. That left me to my own devices, and I used it to my advantage. Strange thing is that Drake isn’t spoiled—he’s one hundred percent man.”

“What did you do on your own?” she asked with such sincerity that he knew her questions sprang from a genuine interest in him.

“I read the great philosophers, the leading writers of the Harlem Renaissance, Shakespeare, Richard Wright, newspapers, the funnies, whatever I got my hands on. And one day, I read about Frank Lloyd Wright. After that, I read everything about him that I could find.”

“So he was your idol and the reason you became an architect?”

“Partly. Telford’s the other reason. He had this dream of vindicating our father, and he talked about it so much that… Well, it fit with my passion for Wright’s work. Drake’s a born engineer. From childhood, he was always interested in how to make things work, and it is he and not Telford or I who fixes things around our home.”

“The three of you work well together. I assume Telford is the project manager.”

“Right. He negotiates contracts, purchases supplies, hires the workers and oversees them. He’s responsible for bringing the project in on time. He’s the boss, but we take a vote on everything important. If there’s disagreement, I always lose.”

He heard himself say it, and knew it was true, but it didn’t much bother him and never had. When he wanted to get his way, he knew how to do it.

Her reaction didn’t surprise him. “You don’t seem resentful. How’s that? I’d be after their heads all the time.”

He slowed down to take a curve on a poorly lighted section of the highway. “Sure I’ve resented it, but only at the moment and only about the issue in question. When I seriously want to have my way, both Telford and Drake yield. We care about each other, Velma, and neither of us is ever knowingly going to hurt the other.”

“All of you have strong, dominant personalities, what we call the alpha males. It’s a wonder you’re so close.”

“Henry’s the best leavening agent three young Turks ever had. Even before our father died, Henry was the adult we looked to, because Papa was rarely at home, always off working himself to death.”

He swallowed and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, surprised at his dry mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever talked this much. We’re practically home, and I haven’t learned very much about you. What I got, though, was special.” He pulled into the circular driveway of Number Ten, John Brown Drive, stopped and cut the motor.

“Here we are, and I didn’t speed.” He wondered at her nonresponse. They entered the foyer, and after locking the door, he hung up their coats. “I’m going into the kitchen to get some juice. Want some?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“Thanks for making these last few hours so pleasant. You and your brothers have been fortunate, Russ. You didn’t have your parents, but you had peace and love. Alexis and I had our parents, but I think I’d be a happier person today if they had separated or put us in foster care.”

He could feel both of his eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes seemed twice their size. “Does Alexis feel this way, too?”

“Alexis is a Quaker. She thinks in terms of a peaceful, serene present and doesn’t worry about the past. Furthermore, I’m older than she is, and I understood better what I heard and saw. But let’s not end this lovely day talking about my parents.”

“Then we won’t.” He took her hand and walked with her into the kitchen. They drank the orange juice, and he remembered that they would ascend the stairs together to go to their separate rooms. From the expression on her face, he knew she had already thought of it, and that her nerves were on edge.

“Come on,” he said, deciding to make light of what was becoming an embarrassing situation. “We can be trusted to walk up those stairs together.”

“Speak for yourself.” When she glanced up at him, heat roared through his body. Blatant vulnerability spread across her face. He wanted her. He’d wanted her all evening, from the minute she reached the altar. He reached out to gather her into his arms.

“I… Sorry. I shouldn’t have come with you. Good night.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t. Look here, Velma. You’re beautiful, intelligent and you’ve got a wonderful, outrageous sense of humor. Why are you—”

“Thanks for trying to prop up my ego. What happened to all that honesty everybody says you have?”

He stepped back. “Thanks for the reality check. From time to time I need those. Good night.”

He went into the den and dropped himself into the big overstuffed leather chair. In another second, he would have kissed her senseless. He didn’t remember ever enjoying a woman’s company so thoroughly. In the space of two hours, she taught him a lot about himself, and he liked all of it. But he wasn’t going to tie himself to a woman who didn’t know and appreciate her own assets.