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BOOK: Beverly Byrne
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"Luke's
coming for dinner this evening," Lil said on Wednesday. "Shall we
have pot roast or chicken?"

 

"Whatever
you think," Amy said. What did she care about food? Luke was coming. Lil,
accustomed to never getting answers to her questions, went to the kitchen to
confer with Maureen. Amy danced around the room and hummed the wedding march,
silently, so that only she could hear.

 

That
night Luke was relaxed, animated, and charming. He was his old self. While she
dressed, Amy had worried just a tiny bit. Perhaps he'd be stiff or embarrassed
because he had half proposed, and now he didn't know how to finish it and make
it official. I'll have to find some way to put him at his ease, she'd thought.
But it wasn't necessary. He laughed at her and teased her and complimented Lil,
and as always the whole apartment seemed alive and new just because he was
there.

 

"I
saw an old friend of yours today," Luke mentioned to his aunt. "Father
Clement at St. Vincent's. He sends you a big hello."

 

"How
nice," Lil said. Then, to Amy, "I knew him years ago before he was a
Dominican. Joe Devereaux he was in those days. How did you happen to see
him?" she asked Luke. "I'd heard he was sent to the missions."

 

"He
was. Caught some tropical disease and had to come home. He's ok now. He was
hearing confessions. Just coming out of the box when I got to church. "

 

Amy
had a mental image of a man stepping out of a coffin. Catholics certainly had
some weird ideas. "What are confessions?" she asked.

 

Luke
laughed and patted her hand. "The sacrament of penance," he said. He
was off on a long explanation, but she only half heard. She was watching his
face. The way his mouth moved, the smile in his deep blue eyes. He was happy
and peaceful. She could tell by the way he looked and sounded. It did not occur
to  her that his calm was related to his visit to church and this thing called
confession. Luke, she told herself, was beginning to know what she knew.

 

"I've
got two tickets for the Saturday matinee of the new Cohan review," Lil
announced over coffee. "I meant them as a surprise for Amy. Now I don't
see how I can go because I'm so busy with plans for the new house. Can you take
her Luke?"

 

Amy
flushed. Lil made her sound like a child that needed a nurse. "It's all
right if you've something else planned," she said hastily.

 

Luke
hesitated for only a fraction of a second. "Never too busy to be your
escort, princess."

 

He
brought her chocolate truffles to eat at the theater and they had a box and the
show was marvelous. Amy was excited and very happy. She kept casting sidelong
glances at Luke and comparing him to all the other men in the audience and on
stage. No one was as handsome or as wonderful. Luke moved with more elegance
than the dancers, and there was something else that at first she couldn't put a
name to. It was power, she decided. Luke was so tall and lean and self-assured.
When he helped her off with her coat or conferred with her over the program his
every move was perfect. Once she glanced up and caught sight of the two of them
reflected in a gilt-framed mirror. Luke so blond, she so dark. We're a handsome
couple, she told herself. Even when we're old we'll look beautiful together.
Together, married . . . her blood was still singing that new and irrefutable
truth.

 

They
were together almost daily for the next week. Errands to be done for Lil,
meetings at lunchtime to go to the library and find a book he wanted Amy to
read, dinner at the apartment. It was as if Luke somehow knew what she loved
most in him and acted accordingly. He was more sure, more graceful, more Luke.
His manner seemed to lose the trace of shyness and hesitancy he'd previously
had with her. Amy decided that the day on the beach had confirmed things for
him too. He knows, she told herself. Now it's just a matter of the right
moment. When that moment came they would speak aloud their love. They would
become engaged.

 

The
weather relinquished its pretence of spring and turned bitterly cold. Amy didn't
mind; she was warm inside. Lil was deep in Christmas preparations. Amy debated
about what she'd give Luke, and dreamed that he might present her with a ring. Christmas
would be a lovely time to get engaged.

 

Close
to five one Monday evening Lil knocked on the door of Amy's room.
"Darling, I've been such a fool. I saw a nice scarf for Warren at Macy's
this afternoon, but there were so many people at the counter I didn't want to
wait. Now I'm afraid it will be gone by tomorrow. They're open until six and I
was wondering..."

 

"Of
course, Aunt Lil. I'll go right away."

 

She
was leaving the building just as Luke arrived. He was earlier than usual.
"The heating in our office broke down," he explained, "so we
closed early. Where are you off to?"

 

"Macy's,
Aunt Lil needs something." She saw the way he looked at her, and she was
conscious of her hat. It was green velvet with a fur trim. She knew it made a
ravishing frame for her face. "Care to come?" she asked.

 

"I'd
love to. I haven't seen Macy's window this year. "

 

All
the way to Herald Square he regaled her with stories of when he was a kid and
he and Tommy were taken to see Macy's Christmas window. By the time they
reached the store Amy was filled with anticipation. Mr. Macy didn't disappoint
her. The window was a gold and white and red fantasy. The theme was Santa
Claus's workshop complete with all the elves. Lots of the parts moved, and
there was a clock that chimed every quarter hour and opened miniature doors to
display within a group of dancing figurines.

 

"It's
gorgeous," she said with delight; turning her face up to Luke. "I've never
seen anything like it."

 

"Nothing
like this in Africa, eh?" He grinned and tweaked her nose and added that
they had to hurry or the store would close before they got the scarf.

 

When
they came out the streets were even more crowded and a few snowflakes had
started to fall. "Let's be extravagant and take a cab," Luke said.
"The streetcars are horrible at this hour."

 

The
taxi was warm and dark and snug, and it moved slowly because of the traffic.
When it turned the corner of Forty-second Street it lurched slightly on the wet
road, and Amy was thrown against Luke. She stayed there, loving the closeness
of him and the smell of his damp overcoat mingling with the smell of him.

 

Luke
stiffened. Men could be difficult, just as Mummy used to say, and stupidly shy
and blind. She reached up and laid her gloved hand on his cheek. He moaned and
covered it with his and then he was kissing her again and it was as it had been
on Long Island. The same urgency, the same rightness. They couldn't press
together as they had on the beach, not in the back of a taxi, but his hands
stroked her and his mouth moved against hers.

 

"Oh,
God, Amy," he muttered when the kiss ended.

 

"It's
all right, Luke," she whispered. The assertion was drawn out of her
without her knowing how or why. "We're right."

 

"I
don't know. I just don't know."

 

"Here
you are sir, Seventy-sixth and Fifth," the cab driver said. His voice
broke the mood.

 

After
that she didn't know how he'd be during dinner, but he was wonderful. He seemed
almost euphoric. Gay and witty, and seeking opportunities to touch her hand or
find her eyes when no one else was looking. Tonight, she thought. Tonight he's
going to propose! If only Lil and Warren would leave us alone for a bit.

 

But
they didn't. They seemed almost to conspire to avoid the very thing Amy longed
for. After dinner neither brother nor sister left the drawing room as they
usually did. Finally it was eleven and Luke said good night and left. Bitterly
disappointed, Amy didn't sleep well.

 

That
night she had a strange dream. She was in Africa in a grove of trees beside a
river. She knew the place well; it wasn't far from Jericho. There was a
waterfall and behind it a small cave. Amy knew that too. She'd explored it
years before, when she was small. Luke was with her and he didn't believe the
cave was there. "Come," she said in her dream, "I'll prove it to
you."

 

They
took off their clothes, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and
she felt no shyness because a white cloud enveloped them both. Then they
plunged into the river and swam to the falls. The next instant they were in the
cave, and the covering clouds had melted away. "Now we're clean," the
dream Amy said. The dream Luke nodded and took her in his arms. His hips moved
against hers the way they had on the beach, but when she looked over his
shoulder she saw an enormous lion watching them from the other side of the
river. It was distorted by the sheet of falling water, but she knew it was the
biggest lion in the world. Amy waited for Luke to gasp the way he had before,
but she awoke before it happened. She was shivering and a lump of tears choked
her throat.

 

The
next evening Luke was entirely different. He was expected for dinner and he
came, but he was withdrawn and almost cold. And now, when he was like this, Lil
and Warren did what they hadn't done the night before, they left them alone.

 

"I
have to talk to you," Luke said.

 

No,
a voice shouted in her head. Not when he's in this mood. "I have a
headache," she lied. "I think I'll go to bed."

 

"Please,"
he said. "It won't take long."

 

She
looked around for an escape or an interruption. She felt like an animal trapped
in a pit. The hunters were waiting and their spears were sharp. "You're
wonderful, Amy," Luke said. "I enjoy being with you so much. But.
.."

 

"I
really don't feel well," she said. Her voice was too loud, and she forced
herself to lower it. "I'm sorry, I must go to bed."

 

"Sometimes
I'm not sure," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Sometimes I
think maybe I've been wrong all along, and you've been sent to prove it to me.
Other times I know it's just a test."

 

"Sent
by whom?" she demanded. "A test of what?" As soon as she asked
the questions, Amy knew that she'd made a terrible mistake. Now she really was
ill. She would faint if she didn't get out of this room. She left him without
another word, ran to her bedroom, and closed the door hard behind her. Then she
stood leaning against it, trying to catch her breath and to hear what was
happening in the apartment.

 

There
was the sound of low voices. Soon the outside door opened and shut. Luke had
said good night to Lil and left. A minute passed and she began to feel a little
calmer. Nothing irrevocable had been said. She would have to think and plan.
Then she'd find a way to make it all right again. A light tap on the door
intruded on her thoughts.

 

"It's
Aunt Lil, darling. Luke said you were ill."

 

"I
t's nothing really." Amy knew that she should be polite and open the door,
but she couldn't make herself do it. "Just a headache. I'll be fine in the
morning."

 

Lil
made sympathetic noises and offered her tea.

 

"Nothing,
thank you. I just want to sleep."

 

Finally
she heard Lil's footsteps moving away. She threw herself on the bed fully
dressed. He doesn't love me, she thought. But she knew he did. She'd seen it in
his eyes, felt it in his touch.

 

She
was young and inexperienced, but she couldn't be mistaken about that. Then why
was he resisting her and his own desires? His religion perhaps. But that was
mad! What did she care about religion? She would become a Catholic too, if that
was what he wanted. She must find some way to let him know that. She'd ask
questions about his church, and this time she'd really listen to his answers.
And she'd stop telling him she didn't believe in God.

 

Satisfied
that she had some new insight into both the problem and the solution, Amy got
up and undressed. She was glad that she'd managed to forestall tonight's
conversation. At least she had gained time. She told herself that everything
was going to be all right, and finally she slept. But she had the same dream,
and this time the lion seemed closer and even more menacing.

 

BOOK: Beverly Byrne
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