9781618857569GettingitAllStorm (23 page)

He looked horrified that she didn’t know
.
He would then have to explain.
Good. Let him.

“Uh, well, it appears that you…that is,
your dating habits…and those of your friend, Ms Ardmore…” His face began to
flush. He unbuttoned his suit jacket.

Lucy wasn’t exactly ignorant about what
might be going around town. Matt or Dot may have mentioned something, but they
didn’t make a big thing of it, and tangled together in bed they had all been focused
on much more interesting things than what gossipy neighbors might be thinking
or saying. Matt had a certain standing in the community, but she and Dorothy
were pretty much free to live whatever lives they might want to, so long as
they didn't break any laws or frighten the animals.

She repressed a smirk. Was it Noël Coward
said that? He would have.

Lucy didn’t put a lot of store in rumors,
anyway.
Never had.
Well, not in a long time. Once what
people thought about her had been uppermost in her mind, but as she grew older
and discovered the huge disconnect between who she perceived herself to be and
what people seemed to want her to be, she began to realize most gossip and
innuendo was based on the perception of the
inuendo-er
and seldom on real facts.

Lucy now considered herself pretty
much facts
based. Socially, she realized she was not all
that
adroit,
people in general still confused her. But
fact wise, few could challenge her. She was good at research. She was good at
cross-connections. She was good at her job. Carmen was impressed.

She had once cared about society, what
people thought. After all, we're all members and want to be liked, she
reasoned. But other than being civil and paying attention, there wasn't a lot
one could do. Since rumors had never referred to her before—up until now, sadly
she supposed people might say, there had never been any reason—it was difficult
to get in the swing of putting much store in them at this late date.

What she had been doing, when not with
Matt or Dorothy, or working, was getting some facts and propositions that she
had been mulling over straight in her head, and down on paper.
 
She really needed to discuss some things with
her beloved lovers, but once they had their clothes off, and that was usually
pretty quick, the idea of 'discussing' just seemed to turn its little bare ass
and take off into the forests like all those white-tailed deer caught wrecking
everybody's gardens. Outside the fantastic sex, what she might do to not only
continue but make her current love life even better had been occupying her
waking hours. She wanted to be sure she had her facts in order before she
presented her idea.

Maybe that was why Carmen looked so
rattled. She hadn’t been paying that much attention to work these last few days
and she normally was a very dedicated worker. Poor, dear, man, she thought. He
was trying to reprimand her and didn’t know how to do it.

“Carmen. Mr. Anders…” She raised her hand
to try and interrupt his stumbling explanation of why he had called her in that
wasn't making the slightest sense. Something about
Brunnie’s
Oldsmobile, she thought, and Marta’s husband, Milton. And she just didn't have
the time or the interest to make his convoluted connections.

Good Lord. She hoped Brunhilde and Milton
weren’t having an affair. And then began to giggle at the thought.

Her giggle stopped Carmen dead. He seemed
shocked and rushed to her to grab her hands and hold them tightly in his. Lucy
stared transfixed at his impetuosity.

“I
knew
this was all too much for you. I just knew what they were saying couldn’t be
true, or even if just a small bit of it were true it would be too much…for you
to handle.” He pushed his face urgently toward her, eyes intense and slightly
wild, brow furrowed and damp with perspiration. You’re much too sensitive a
girl…a young woman…to endure such talk. Not that I believe a word, you
understand, but I’m here for you, Lucy.” He nodded urgently, as if to convince
himself of his intensity. “I’m ready to step in, if you need me, and give Bartholomew
a good talking to.
And maybe...and maybe Ms Ardmore, too.
I’m ready to do whatever you need me to do…whatever you want me to do.”

“I'd like you to let go of my hands,
Carmen. You're hurting.”

He jumped back, horrified. “No. No. I
didn't mean...” He grabbed her again.
Even more forcefully.

“Yes! Yes, I did! Lucy will you marry me?
Oh, God, no, that's not what...yes! Yes it is. Be strong, Carmen. For once in
your life say what you mean! Lucy you're so smart, and so beautiful, and now,
with the rumors, so...so...sexy. Say it, Carmen, sexy!
Oh,
God!”
He buried his face in his hands, dragging her hands with him.

She winced.
From her
hands being crushed.
From the desperation of an older,
dear friend.

“Carmen, let's sit down and talk.” Gently
she guided him behind the desk and into the arm chair that he was so fond of,
so proud of. He had built the business himself.
All on his
own.
Stayed in town.
Made something of
himself
.
Gave something back.

She pried her hands out of his, then
stretched and shook her spread fingers, breathing a sigh of relief. Kissing the
top of his bent head, she murmured, reassuring hands on his shaking shoulders.
“Everything's going to be fine. We're not going to get married. You love your
wife. Everything's going to get better. I'll go get a chair and we'll talk.”

Quickly she brought the client's straight
back chair to face him. She gently lifted his chin. “Look at me. Now...what's
the problem?”

It was the missus. She was losing her
mind, or getting Alzheimer’s or was ready to divorce him, or something. No,
they hadn't talked. Not really. Every time he tried to say something she would
get upset and blame him and then start to cry...and...
and
...
there
was Lucy in his office every day.
Efficient,
pleasant, attractive.
Being nice to the clients.
Always saying the right thing.
Just like Geraldine had
been.
When they had first started out.

He wasn't an old man. He didn't want his
life to start turning into what everybody else's life that he knew seemed to be
turning into. Was it having kids? Geraldine had been,
was
a great mother. But they were all grown now.
On their own.
Had
their own
families.
Hardly had time for their parents anymore.
Was that what it was all about?
Getting old.
Not being
needed anymore.
Losing our minds.
Getting
sick.

“Who's her doctor?”

“What? Lucy, what's that...?”

“Never mind.
I can look it
up.” She began going through the Rolodex on his desk.

“Lucy, you can't...”

“Of course, I can. You go wash your face.
You'll feel better.”

One thing about small town doctors, they
were usually available right away or could be tracked down fairly quickly.

Yes, the doctor said. Mrs. Anders was
going through a rather difficult menopause right now, and, no she probably
hadn't discussed it with her husband. But she had said the medication was
helping enormously and, yes, if she had stopped taking it, it was possible for
her emotions to become somewhat erratic. But she had told him...

He would call her right away. And get her
back into the office on some pretext and run a few tests. He was sorry Carmen
hadn't called him earlier about his wife's behavior. They had all known each
other for so long... Yes, he was perfectly aware of how clueless some husbands
could be.

Lucy passed the phone over to her boss
who was reassured his wife was acting more or less normally under the
circumstances. Why, he had some patients that...but, of course he couldn't
mention any names what with the doctor/patient privacy thing, but...he made
Carmen promise to stay in close touch until Geraldine could get through this
period. They would all work together. If need be, he had some good
recommendations for therapists, but he doubted...

Reassuring Carmen he would get in touch
with Geraldine as soon as possible, he hung up.

Carmen broke down. Racking sobs. Lucy had
saved his life.
Saved his marriage.
Saved
his beloved Geraldine.
He would see to it that if those uncaring kids of
theirs ever had any other grandchildren one of them would be named Lucy.

No, he didn't think it was a good idea
for Lucy to see Geraldine right now, at least not until the doctor could assure
him she was on the right medication again. Geraldine seemed to have some sort
of...
well,
she seemed to think Lucy might be more
involved in more than just the business aspect of their relationship.

In fact
—
he sighed, resigned
—
he supposed it
would be best if they went back to referring to each other more formally. Just
in case. He had caught himself referring to Lucy by her first name a couple of
times and, now that he thought of it, Geraldine hadn't taken that very well.

He was sorry about the hands, the tears,
the
marriage proposal. They finally laughed. She kissed him
on the cheek. It would be their last intimate moment, she promised.
From then on, just boss and office manager.

He went back in the office and closed the
door to call Geraldine.

Before he could make the call, Lucy
buzzed him and asked if she might take a little walk to get a bit of air. She'd
be back in fifteen minutes.
Of course.

She went to the bar down the street and
had a vodka and tonic.
Way too quickly.

Her cell phone rang.

“Matt wants the three of us to get
together tonight. I know it's your night but... He tried to call your cell...”

“Oh, Dot, I am so grateful. I've had a
really...exhausting...day. I need you both so bad.”

“Oh, sweetie, you
and me, both.
I think some of the guys have been on Matt's ass
too.”

“We must be strong and...
talk
,” Lucy said. “We need to get some things said, and you
know how we are.”

“Yeah.
You're right.
Stay dressed. Have our talk and then...”

“And then...right.” Lucy was feeling a
hell of a lot better already, just thinking about the 'and then...' “But stay
dressed first. Maybe even sort of spread out in different chairs...until we get
our talk over. I've got some figures I want to show you guys. They're pretty impressive.”

Dorothy laughed. “Your figures are always
impressive, Lucy. You and I have to have a little talk about figures. I need to
lose a few pounds.”

“Don't be silly. You look great. Matt
loves you the way you are. I love you the way you are.” She giggled. “If you
start getting too 'loveable' don't worry, we'll work you back down to size.”

“Can I count on that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Stay dressed!”

Lucy laughed. She was going to have to
work on getting rid of that stupid giggle of hers.
Time to
grow up.

But right at this moment she was feeling
very giggly.

“Right on! Stay dressed!”

Chapter Ten

Matt met them at the door in his fancy
skivies
, grinning.

They looked at each other, mouths agape,
then burst out laughing and began to get down to their fancy
skivies
.

Shaking his head in delight as he watched
the ladies divest themselves of their work togs, Matt reiterated to himself
he’d never understand women. Not at all the reaction he’d expected, if he truly
expected anything in particular. These ladies seemed to always keep him on his
toes.
Which he wanted to expect every day and night from now
on.
But that would come later.
His presenting his
plan.
His suggestion.
His…dream.

Now that neither of them had given him
any sort of recognition they might have been the secret admirer who had sent
him the underwear, he’d move on to plan B.
A simple little
rump-bumping strip tease to get them in the mood.

They were way ahead of him.

Dorothy was down to some sort of sheer
lacy, lavender-colored see-thru
ribboned
scraps that
totally boned him.
So much for the need of his underwear’s
vaunted “enhancement.”
He looked positively lewd, jutting out, reaching
hungrily toward the both of them.

Lucy’s simple pale blue push-up and thong
did everything it could to set off her smaller frame.