Authors: Nancy Frederick
She relaxed against his shoulder, letting her hand lie softly on his chest.
"Good morning," she said, still shy.
"Are you hungry?"
What sort of hostess etiquette did one use in this situation?
"Yes," he said.
"Oh, let me make you breakfast then."
"In a bit."
"The shower is right in there," Annabeth lifted her arm to gesture.
"I'll get you a clean towel."
"Not yet."
George took Annabeth's hand in his, squeezing it briefly, then slid it down along his body.
"Let's get a little dirtier before we get clean."
"Oh," said Annabeth, her thoughts swirling.
She lay there calmly, quietly, enjoying the freedom to touch him as she chose.
Unlike the previous night, there was no sense of urgency, and she could savor the feel of his skin against her hands as they floated, stroked, drifted across his flesh.
"You have good hands," he said, his breath a bit unsteady.
"You too," she said.
"How is your mouth?"
His hand pressed against the top of her head, guiding her down.
She slid down, along the smooth sheets, the coarse hairs of his body tickling her soft skin, and began working on him with her mouth in tender little kisses, gentle nibbles, wet strokes with her tongue.
Hearing him groan, she smiled quickly and continued, taking her time, inventing new techniques as she went along until he was ready for more.
George lay back against the pillow, looking down at Annabeth as she worked on him.
Holding her head tightly to him, he moaned, saying, "That's it, oh yes, so wonderful."
There was a strange sound, like a clatter, a rumbling, but Annabeth was too focused on her task to hear it until George jumped, reaching for the covers.
"Mom!" exclaimed Sally, whose footsteps on the stairs had made the noise.
Her voice was hoarse, and she stood silently then, in shock.
Annabeth turned, grasped the covers and pulled them to her chin, her mouth agape.
The three of them stayed frozen for a moment that seemed to last forever
until Sally turned and ran from the room.
"These things happen," said George, reaching for Annabeth, who leapt from the bed, grabbed a robe and raced down the stairs after her daughter.
"Sally, wait," she said, as Sally was reaching for the front door.
They glanced at each other, equally embarrassed.
"Come in for a minute.
Did you need me?"
Annabeth tried to catch her breath.
Sally glared at her mother, then walked into the kitchen and sat at the table.
"Who is that?" she asked sternly.
Annabeth began making coffee, speaking softly, not really knowing how to answer.
"A friend."
"How long have you known him?"
"Oh, a while," lied Annabeth.
Sally stared at Annabeth, her eyes blazing and her jaw clenched.
Shaking her head, she continued, "You have a boyfriend and you don't even introduce him to us?"
Trying to change the subject, Annabeth said, "What brings you by so early this morning?"
Still frowning, Sally held out her hand.
On it was a tiny diamond.
"Isn't that beautiful," said Annabeth, smiling.
She could hear the water running upstairs.
Would George be coming downstairs soon?
What if she introduced him to her daughter and somehow he mentioned that they'd only just met?
What had she done?
"And I wanted to show you this," said Sally, still obviously upset, as she rummaged in the tote bag on her arm.
She pulled out a bridal magazine, turned back to a specific page.
"Oh, my, how beautiful," said Annabeth on seeing the wedding gown pictured.
Lost for a moment in a reverie, she envisioned Sally in the dress, and she smiled.
"You'll look wonderful in a dress like that."
George appeared in the kitchen briefly, his clothes on.
He nodded awkwardly toward Sally then mumbled, "See you at the Lantern, Anna--uh--Annabelle--uh--Annabeth," and walked to the front door and out.
Sally was thoroughly aghast.
"Mom!
He doesn't even know your name.
And the Lantern?
The Rusty Lantern?
You're hanging out at bars now?
Jesus, what are you thinking?"
"I have supper there occasionally, that's all.
For heaven's sake."
"He didn't even get your name right."
Annabeth blushed,
Trying to find the right thing to say, she mumbled, "It's early."
"You're acting like a slut.
You're supposed to be a mother.
I have to go now.
I'm just too mad at you to talk any longer."
Sally jumped up and strode toward the door, saying with a stammer, "Just, just, just think about what you're doing, will you?
I'm ashamed of you."
Annabeth heard the door slam.
When, an hour later, the phone rang and she heard her father's voice, she was almost afraid to speak to him.
Could Sally have called him?
Annabeth cringed at the thought.
"How are you, dear?" he asked.
"Oh, I'm fine," she answered, her mind racing.
"How are you?"
"I'm a little upset."
Annabeth's throat locked as she swallowed.
Afraid to ask what was wrong, she remained silent, waiting tensely.
"Though I consider this only a minor setback."
A setback?
Would her actions with George have an effect on the divorce?
How was that possible?
Afraid to continue silently, Annabeth spoke haltingly, "A setback?"
"Judge Henson will be hearing the case.
He's young.
Too young.
Too liberal if you ask me."
Annabeth let loose a huge sigh of relief, which her father read as one of disappointment.
"Now listen to me," he said, "I don't want you to worry.
The judge--even Henson--will want to see you're taken care of."
"I'm sure it will all be fine.
Say, Dad?"
"Yes, dear?"
"I stopped in at the bank and the woman there said I could get a mortgage.
Even on what I earn.
And with alimony--er, maintenance money, I could qualify for the whole amount to pay off R.J.."
"Give that son of a bitch a settlement and you get stuck with a mortgage?"
"I have to save my home."
"Well, we'll see.
Asprey's been stalling, making R.J. sweat."
Her conversation with her father finished, and her heart no longer pounding, Annabeth sat back at the kitchen table.
She breathed in deeply, thinking about the recent events in her life.
She could not help but feel guilty, although somewhere in the back of her mind was a thought she couldn't quite articulate, namely, didn't she have the right to do what she wanted?
As she was trying to make sense of everything, including George Healy and whether she would be likely ever to see him again, the phone rang once more.
"Sally's hysterical," said Laurel.
"I know," answered her mother.
"I'm sorry."
"She says you're picking up men in bars and they don't even know your name."
"And how are you, honey?" said Annabeth, trying to change the subject.
"I told you to date, didn't I?"
"Things in New Orleans going well?"
"I just want to ask you one question.
Condoms."
"That didn't sound like a question to me.
Look, hon, don't worry about me.
I'm fine.
All grown up, you know.
Able to take care of myself."
"It's serious, Mom, condoms."
"I know, hon, I know."
"Well, that's a relief.
And, Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Um...well...I mean...you need them for...um...oral sex too.
Just thought I'd mention it."
Annabeth blushed and remained silent.
"I think it's great you're getting out.
Really I do.
In fact, I told the kid that when she called me. But, Mom?"
"Yes?"
"You're not thinking of getting married again right away are you?"
"Goodness, no."
Annabeth wondered if George would ever speak to her again after this morning's shock.
"Because there's more to life than being married you know."
"Oh?"
"We all need a life of our own.
A career.
Something that matters."
"You're a very smart girl."
"You know, Mom, you could always come here.
There are a lot more things to do in a city.
More people."
"Thanks, hon, you're a wonderful daughter, but this is home."
"I had a party this weekend.
Everyone loved the apartment."
"Oh, you mean a house warming?"
"Well, not really, just a little party."
"And when will you be coming home next?"
"Maybe Thanksgiving."
"That would be lovely.
Oh--did I tell you--I sold a lot of pieces to a store.
And I'm going to a crafts show with Becky, this nice woman I met."
"Great.
Keep at it.
I'm sure you'll be in galleries any day now."
"Nah, don't think so," said Annabeth, thinking about Mr. Paris Landry and his haughty treatment of her.
"Okay, Mom.
Don't worry about Sally.
I'm sure she'll snap out of it."
"Thanks hon.
You take care."
There was a lull at the ice cream counter later in the day, and when Becky stopped by, Annabeth was glad to see her.
Becky accepted Annabeth's offer of a milk shake, then said, "I just wanted to check in with you about the show this weekend.
All ready?"
"I have quite a few pieces.
I hope not too many.
How about you?"
"Oh!" Becky reached out and touched Annabeth's hand.
"My things never looked better.
It's your wonderful designs."
"I'm so glad.
My boss gave me this weekend off, so I guess we're both all set."
"Great.
I can pick you up in my van.
That's better than going in two cars, don't you think?"
Annabeth nodded.
"I'll pay for the gas."
"No, don't be silly.
I still feel guilty for taking your sketches for so little money.
Oops, you have customers."
Annabeth looked over to see Maggie and Louise Watkins seating themselves at the ice cream counter.
"I'll be back in a second," she said to Becky, smiling.
Maggie, appeared to be frowning at her and if she wasn't there to be friendly and make up at last, what did she want?
"Hi," said Annabeth, smiling.
"It's great to see you."
"How about two hot fudge sundaes," ordered Louise.
"Sure."
Annabeth turned to prepare the ice cream, which took only a moment, then placed the treats in front of the two women.
Becky walked toward where Annabeth stood, touching her hand once again.
"Gotta run.
See you early Saturday."
"Great.
I can't wait."
"I didn't know you worked here," commented Louise.
"I've been here a while.
It's fun."
"Must be a great way to meet men," said Maggie.
Annabeth lowered her eyes briefly before replying, "And toddlers."
"Have you ever been to the Rusty Lantern?" Maggie asked Louise.
"Gracious, no.
Have you?"
Maggie shook her head.
"Of course not.
But Annabeth can tell us all about it.
Can't you?"
Annabeth looked silently at her friend, not wanting to say anything mean, but wishing Maggie hadn't come into the drugstore.