Seasons of Her Life (27 page)

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “I guess we better get started, and the sooner you get out of those fancy duds, the quicker we'll get this place into shape. While you change, I'll get the rest of the girls. By dinnertime, this place will be spick-and-span. We have this routine we go through when a new wife comes on base. We pool our talents, and when your husband arrives, he thinks you did it all. That makes for happiness. Of course, this place is a bit worse than the usual. See you in a few minutes.”

There were five of them all together. They arrived with buckets, brooms, soap, and cleanser. Two huge trash cans stood in the middle of the floor and were filled almost immediately. Inside of ten minutes Ruby saw that Dixie was a human dynamo as she directed, ordered, and pointed, never missing a beat in her own chores. “View this as the ultimate challenge!” she crowed over and over as she sloshed hot soapy water on the buckling kitchen floor.

Ruby beamed from ear to ear. What a wonderful bunch of women. Not only were they helping her, they were using their own soap products and offering to lend her anything she needed until things were made right. Ruby accepted graciously when she was told by a redhead named Monica that in two weeks she'd be doing the same thing for a new family moving in four doors away.

“We have to band together,” Christine said happily. “We baby-sit and shop for one another. It's the only way we can function in the military chaos. It's our job to make things easy for our husbands.”

“What do they do,” Ruby asked curiously, “while we're doing all this?”

The girls stopped as one and stared at Ruby. She sensed she'd made a gigantic mistake. “What I mean is, what . . . how do ...”

Dixie rushed into the impending breach. “What they do is play cards, drink martinis and beer, and take us for granted. Of course, they appreciate us, if that's what you're asking. It's an unwritten thing, if you know what I mean. They're officers!” she said, trying to make her point, her arms waving wildly.

“I'm new at this. I don't know anyone who is married to someone in the military, so if I foul up, bring me up short. I don't want to do anything to embarrass my husband or you girls. I see where I'm going to need a lot of help,” Ruby said ruefully.

“That's what we're here for. Ruby, you will make friends in the service that you will have all your life. Sometimes we're better than a blood family. If your man is in for the long haul and gets transferred tomorrow, say, why, who knows? Six years down the road you might meet one of us at some other base. It's like that. Look, you'll get used to it. We have some real nice parties, especially over the holidays, and in the spring and summer we have cookouts. Sometimes it's wonderful, sometimes it's damn near perfection.”

“And other times it's devastating, like when you get transferred and have to leave friends and go through this all over again,” said the young woman named Christine. “Tomorrow we'll requisition new linoleum for you. And a paint job. But that doesn't mean it will happen in the next few days.

“Jane,” Christine said happily, “knows how to make slipcovers and she's taught us all how to put on the cording. This ... this furniture that came over on the ark is going to look brand-new once we get chintz covers on it. Inside of a couple of weeks this little place will be homey and comfortable. Trust us. Oh, Monica is a real whiz when it comes to drapes and curtains. We pooled our money and bought a secondhand sewing machine.”

Ruby felt better immediately.

“One good thing,” Dixie said, beaming, “is that our whole row of apartments gets the morning sun in the kitchen. It's so nice to have breakfast and to kaffeeklatch in a sunny kitchen.”

 

Three hours later, Sue, a sunny blonde from Orlando, Florida, said, “Welcome to Camp Lejune, Ruby Blue!”

The girls, all around Ruby's age, hugged her, promising to be lifelong friends.

“Thank you. I'm glad to be here.” Ruby realized she meant every word. She was startled a second later when the phone shrilled to life. She looked at the girls, her jaw dropping as they broke into peals of laughter.

“Bet you didn't even know you had a phone, huh?” Monica chortled. Ruby shook her head.

“Well, you do. It's the first thing that happens in housing. An officer needs to have a phone. Since you're new, I'd say it must be your husband.” Ruby rushed to pick it up. She almost laughed aloud when the girls raised their fingers to their lips to signal secrecy.

“What am I doing? Uh, I'm ... cleaning. Two more hours? No, that's not a problem. Sandwiches will be fine, Andrew. Okay, I'll see you in two hours.”

Dixie clapped her hands gleefully. “Good, now we can adjourn to my place for coffee. And you are not having sandwiches for dinner. We have enough dishes for you and we've already cooked your dinner. I made bread early this morning, so you get homemade bread from me. Monica made a salad. Her salads have everything, even tiny bits of real crisp bacon. Christine made a meat loaf and the gravy is to die for. Sue made you an apple pie, and Gertie made her string-bean dish with almonds and batter-dipped onions and also the scalloped potatoes. We chipped in for a bottle of wine, very domestic, but still good. Did I forget anything?” she asked the small group.

Ruby swallowed past the lump in her throat, her eyes swimming in tears. “I don't know how to thank you. Without you, this all would have been a real disaster. I think ... no, I
know
I'm going to love it here,” she said sincerely.

While the girls gathered up their cleaning tools and supplies, Dixie took Ruby aside. “I think we're going to be good friends, Ruby. I don't know why, but I think we're both cut from the same bolt of cloth, as my mother would say.”

Ruby hugged Dixie. “Yes, we're going to be wonderful friends.”

 

Ruby had the table set, the meat loaf warming in the clean oven, and the salad and vegetables in the refrigerator. The tidy, neat bedroom was made up with linens and scented candles the girls had brought. The radio was plugged in and playing softly. She felt a small thrill of excitement as she stripped off her work clothes and put on a fresh dress. Later she'd take a bath so she'd be fresh and clean for . . . for her first experience with . . . sex.

She poked around the kitchen for another ten minutes before Andrew walked through the door.

“Whew!” he said, slapping at his head. “I knew you were good, but I didn't know you were a miracle worker. This is great, Ruby. How'd you do it all? Is that supper I smell? C'mon, how'd you do it?”

“The neighbors! They were wonderful, Andrew. I could never have done it myself. In a few days I'll have this place as nice as theirs. It's meat loaf and a lot of good things. Apple pie, too.”

“Guess we won't be needing these,” he said, tossing a paper bag with sandwiches on the counter.

“I'll eat them for lunch tomorrow.” Ruby laughed. “I feel better, and I had coffee with the girls and Dixie in her kitchen.”

Andrew grinned from ear to ear. His tie was off now, his jacket folded neatly over the back of the chair. Ruby thought he never looked more handsome than at this moment. She felt stirrings she'd felt only with Calvin.

Andrew drew Ruby into the circle of his arms and leaned down, kissing her lightly. “I like to unwind when I get off duty, and what that means to you is I want my slippers, a drink, and a cigarette. If you can't handle that, now is the time to tell me.” There was such a teasing note in his voice, Ruby felt giddy.

“I can handle it, sir.” Ruby saluted almost as smartly as her husband saluted the guard at the gate house.

“No wine for you, though,” Andrew muttered under his breath as he placed the wine bottle between his legs to uncork it.

Dinner was electric. Everything that was said, every look, every gesture, took on a sexual connotation. By the time it was over and the wine bottle empty, Ruby felt ready to burst. Andrew himself was unable to sit still long enough to read the newspaper he'd brought home with him. He listened to the tap water run in the kitchen sink, the clink of dishes and silver, and Ruby's steps on the creaky linoleum. He wanted her and he wanted her
now.

“That's it, Ruby. You can do the dishes tomorrow. It's time for other things,” he said. Ruby whirled, her hands full of soapsuds.

“I'd . . . I'd like to take a bath. Actually, I need to take a bath with all the cleaning I did today. Do you want to take one, too? You can do that while I . . . while I finish the dishes. You always said you have a five o'clock shadow, maybe you want to . . . to shave.” She was babbling and Andrew was grinning.

“I'll go first, and you're right, I do have a stubble. Ten minutes is all I'll need.” He was leering at her.

“That's . . . that's fine. I can be finished here, and I can take a bath in ten minutes, too. Five if you fill the tub when you're finished.” That sounded good. Agreeable even. Maybe
cooperative
was a better word. A nervous giggle erupted suddenly that Ruby wiped away with her soapy hand.

Fifteen minutes later Ruby stood in the tiny bathroom dressed in her sheer nightie, every nerve in her body twanging. Her hand on the doorknob was shaking so badly, she had to clasp her free hand on top to make the knob turn. He was going to see through the gossamer web of the gown; he was going to touch her in all—She jerked at the door so hard, she was literally thrown off balance, the sheer nightie swishing its own tune as it whirled about her. This was it. There was no way to back out now, even if she wanted to.

A habit of long standing made her switch off the overhead light as she walked into the bedroom.

“C'mere, Ruby,” Andrew said softly as he moved over to make room for her. She slid into the bed and immediately pulled up the covers. She could feel his nakedness against the thin material of her gown. It seemed to sear and scorch her, even though she was shivering. Part of her wanted him to just
do it
and get it over with so she could think about it and make plans to do it better the next time. The other part of her wanted to feel, to savor, to enjoy. She buried her head in the crook of Andrew's arm and nuzzled against him. She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt his erection against her thigh. She wanted to yelp, to leap from the bed. She nuzzled deeper, aware of Andrew's tight hold on her. She wasn't going anywhere.

He was talking, whispering actually, words that she had to strain to hear: how sweet and clean she smelled, how pretty she was, how gorgeous her nightgown was, and what it did to him when he saw her coming into the room.

He was touching her, running his fingers through her hair, nuzzling the back of her neck while his leg delicately hiked the sheer fabric of her gown up to her thighs.

His tongue was ... everywhere and somehow she wasn't in the crook of his arm anymore. The straps of her gown were off her shoulders, her breasts exposed. She was supposed to do something, react, but how? Her eyes snapped open when she felt the gown being pulled over her head. Now, now was when she could cooperate; she was almost sure this was the time. In a squeaky voice she barely recognized as her own she said, “Okay, I'm ready.”

“For what?” Andrew laughed.

“To do it!
”

“It doesn't work like that,” Andrew whispered huskily. “It works like this.” Ruby lay perfectly still while he showed her.

“Ooohhh, do that again,” she gasped, forgetting how uptight she'd just been. “Hmmmnn,” she moaned as one shapely leg moved to lock itself around Andrew's muscular leg.

He murmured against her mouth, not wanting to break contact between them. He lifted her chin, bringing his mouth to hers, drawing from her a kiss that was hesitant and poignant.

“I want to love you. I only want to love you,” he whispered, gently, almost protectively.

Ruby heard the words from a great distance and felt their impact. She wondered if he really did love her or he meant he wanted to make love. Suddenly, she didn't care, because her need for him sang in her blood, and she was helpless to deny herself the strength of his arms and the feel of his body. Running her fingers into his wealth of sandy hair, she initiated an intimate kiss, exploring the recesses of his sweet, wine-scented mouth, wordlessly telling him that if he would have her, then he must take her.

“Did you hear what I said, Ruby?”

“Yes, yes I heard,” she whispered, searching the soft interior of his lips, pressing herself against him in welcome.

Andrew's breath caught in his throat. He whipped back the covers, aware of her fiery gaze as it slid along his body. She was heavy-lidded and excited with passion, her mouth parting with invitation. He heard her quick, indrawn breath as his eyes traveled the length of her silky body. She moaned again and again as his masculinity pressed hard into the softness of her lower belly, and his hands caressed the smooth roundness of her bottom.

She was overwhelmed by the sensation of lying naked in her husband's arms. Her hands caressed the play of muscles on his back. Her thighs pressed against him, marveling at the lean, hard strength of him. She could hear and feel the thudding of his heart.

His mouth captured hers hungrily, desperately. Their hands explored each other, his softly caressing, discovering each sweet curve and hollow.

Andrew shifted so that he was lying beside her. He leaned over to kiss her neck, tasting the delicate scent of her earlobe, the gently curving sweep of her throat down to the valley between her breasts. His hunger found the complexities of her, the slimness of her waist, the turn of her hip, the rising fullness of her breasts. His lips lingered where he could find and give pleasure.