Native Affairs (56 page)

When the cops got closer, Jennifer was unpleasantly surprised to see that one of them was Harry Desautell, whom she knew from her days in private practice. She stepped behind Marilyn, trying to hide.

The police separated the two men and asked for an account of what had happened. Joe acted as spokesman, and when Jennifer’s name came up, Harry looked around for her, finally spotting her peering around Marilyn like a kid playing hide and seek.

“Ms. Gardiner,” Harry said in surprise. “What are you doing here? You know these two gladiators?”

Jennifer mumbled some inane reply, mortified.

Harry raised his eyebrows and pulled a note pad from his pocket. “Let me see here. We have disturbing the peace, inciting to riot, public drunkenness…”

“I’m not drunk,” Lee announced from the sidelines. Harry and Jennifer turned in unison and stared at him. He shrugged and dropped his eyes.

Harry paused to squint at Lee for a moment, and then he snapped his fingers.

“Wait a minute! Aren’t you that football player?”

Lee flashed his most dazzling grin and extended his hand like a candidate running for office. “That’s right, officer. Lee Youngson, Philadelphia Freedom. How do you do?”

Harry shook the proffered hand, looking awed. “Oh, well, Mr. Youngson, I’d like to hear your version of what happened here.”

Lee poured on his legendary charm, and by the time he was finished Officer Harry Desautell was eating out of his hand. The rookie with him was equally impressed, and Jennifer looked away, disgusted.

Harry agreed to let both men off with a warning, and the two cops got Lee’s autograph before they left, escorting a partially sobered George to the door.

Lee turned to Jennifer as the crowd drifted off and things got back to normal.

“It must be nice to get away with everything because you can catch a football,” Jennifer snarled.

Lee glared at her, offended. “I was trying to help you!” He held his right hand up before his face and flexed the fingers. “I think my hand is broken,” he mourned, winking at Marilyn.

“I think your head is broken,” Jennifer snapped.

Marilyn was watching this interchange with interest “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she prompted Jennifer.

Jennifer waved her hand. “Marilyn, this is Lee Youngson. Lee, my friend, Marilyn Bennett.”

Lee smiled charmingly. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am,” he drawled, doing his Montana cowboy routine. Jennifer threw him a dirty look.

Marilyn coughed. “Uh, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go talk to Jim.” She took off, tossing Jennifer a final meaningful glance as she departed.

Joe and Carl, who had remained waiting during this interval, made their presence known. “Hey, Chief, what’s the holdup?” Carl whined. Joe, who had a suspicion he knew what the holdup was, kept silent, eyeing Lee and Jennifer as they conversed in low, intent voices.

“Just a minute, Carl,” Lee answered, never taking his eyes from Jennifer’s face. He closed the fingers of one hand around her neck, rubbing her nape with his thumb, sending a shiver down Jennifer’s spine. “Let’s go,” he said. I’ll take you home.”

Warning bells went off in Jennifer’s head “No, thank you.”

Lee sighed. “Oh, come off it, Jen, what are you going to do, hang around here and wait to be accosted by George Number Two? Or spend a cozy little evening with your girl friend? I don’t think she’ll be leaving with you, honey; she’s found more interesting company.” He slid his hand down to her shoulder and turned her to face him directly. “Aren’t you as lonely as I am? Isn’t that what we’re both doing here?”

Jennifer never had been able to lie to him. “I’ll tell Marilyn,” she said simply.

She saw Lee heading for Joe and Carl as she left.

Marilyn was not surprised. “I figured as much,” she said. She put a hand on Jennifer’s arm.

“Jen, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Jennifer looked bleak. “No, Marilyn. I’m sure I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I want to go with him.”

“So do I,” Marilyn said, and Jennifer laughed Marilyn always could make her see the light side of things.

“Good luck with Jim,” Jennifer said.

“Thanks. Let me know what happens.”

Jennifer nodded and made her way back to Lee.

* * * *

It was pouring when they got outside.

“Still raining,” Jennifer complained. “I haven’t seen the sun for five days.”

“Maybe they moved it,” Lee responded, signaling for an attendant to get his car.

“It’s not funny. This weather is depressing.”

Lee scanned the drenched and dripping trees lining the street “Just think how happy you’ll be when it clears up. ‘For truly the light is sweet, and what a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to see the sun.’”

Jennifer smiled up at him. “Yes, indeed.”

He grinned back. “I hope you’re impressed. My mind is a storehouse of such useless information.”

“I wouldn’t call that useless. Anything as beautiful as that could never be useless.”

He was touched, and made light of it in response. “I know a lot of sun quotes, practically everything written about it The sun is my totem. My father named me for his sun vision, Nitsokan, the sacred sign that makes a boy a man.” He touched the gold disk at the base of his throat. “This is the Pikuni ideogram for the sun. Dawn gave it to me.”

Jennifer glanced away from it Always Dawn.

The attendant pulled up with Lee’s car, and they got into it without further conversation.

* * * *

Lee concentrated on driving through the downpour on the way to Jennifer’s apartment and didn’t speak until he pulled into Mrs. Mason’s driveway.

“I’d like to come up for a while,” he said quietly.

“Lee, you know that’s a bad idea.”

“No, I don’t,” he answered, turning to hold her as she reached for the handle of the door on her side.

Jennifer froze at the contact, every nerve in her body alerted.

“You see?” Lee said, at the evidence of her instant response. “It will always be like this for us.”

Jennifer put her hand over her eyes. “I’ve known that all along, Lee, but nothing else has changed, either.”

He edged closer to her, nuzzling her neck. “Please,” he whispered.

How could she resist that? She relented. “All right.”

They climbed the stairs in thoughtful silence, oblivious of the steadily falling rain. As soon as the door closed behind them, Lee pulled Jennifer into his arms. Chilled and damp, they clung together, famished for each other’s touch.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Lee said against her hair. “I meant not to come here again. I’ve never felt like this before; I simply can’t stay away from you. Do you know how many times I’ve almost called you since the last time we were together? And then tonight when I saw you, it was all over. I had to be with you. I could no more walk away than I could fly.”

Jennifer embraced him, hardly listening to the words. The warmth and the tone of his voice made the message clear.

Lee held her away from him a moment, gazing down at her. “There’s a lake in Montana called Upper Saint Mary,” he said. “In the spring, when the thaw from the mountains runs into it, the water turns the exact color of your eyes.”

Jennifer swallowed hard. If he made another comment like that, she was going to dissolve in a puddle at his feet.

“Well, paleface,” he said, searching her face, “it’s your move.”

Jennifer took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom. He followed slowly, pausing in the doorway when she snapped on the tight.

“This looks like you,” he said, scanning the room. “Beautiful, but practical.”

“That’s right,” Jennifer said. “You didn’t see this last time, did you? We never made it this far.”

“I think we were in a bit of a hurry,” he said, slipping the shawl off her shoulders, bending to kiss the bare skin thus exposed. He murmured something in his native language.

“Thank you,” Jennifer said.

He chuckled. “You didn’t understand what I said.”

“I didn’t have to.”

He crushed her to him fiercely, seeking her mouth with his. Jennifer responded eagerly, on fire to fulfill his every desire. She reached back to the wall and shut off the light.

He took off her clothes, and his own, and they fell on the bed together, impatient, hungry.

Jennifer couldn’t believe how much she’d missed being close to him. How was she going to bear it when this ended, as she feared it would. But Lee didn’t leave her much time for thought, kissing and caressing her with steadily mounting ardor. Soon she was moving urgently against him, tracing his spine with her fingers, running her palms over the flat, hard muscles of his back. When he lowered his mouth to her breasts, she put her face against his hair, soft and smelling of herbal shampoo. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms more tightly about him, waiting for the bliss of total union.

When it came, she arched against him, and he drew back to gaze at her from eyes dark and brilliant with feeling.

“Look at that face,” he murmured. “Such a sweet face. I’ll never, never forget it.”

He kissed her gently on the lips, and then they gave themselves up to a world of sensation.

* * * *

Afterward, they lay together quietly, Jennifer’s head on Lee’s shoulder. Jennifer thought he had fallen asleep, but after some minutes he got up and left her. She heard him zipping his jeans in the darkness, and the almost imperceptible sound of his footsteps going into the living room.

Jennifer waited for his return, and then realized that he wasn’t coming back to the bedroom. She slipped on a robe and followed him out.

Lee was sitting on the sofa, staring into space and smoking one of the cigarettes John Ashford had left behind on the coffee table.

Jennifer halted in her tracks, astonished. “You don’t smoke,” she said.

Lee inhaled deeply until the tip of the cigarette glowed, and then exhaled through his nose. “I used to. I quit a long time ago when I discovered it was difficult to run when I couldn’t breathe.” He glanced at her, then away. “The craving returns when I’m upset or nervous.” He smiled dryly. “For some strange reason, I seem to be very nervous tonight.”

Jennifer bit her lip. Wonderful. Now she was driving him to revert to old, bad habits.

He saw her expression. “Oh, Jen, don’t look like that,” he said, stubbing out the butt and coming to take her hands, leading her to sit beside him “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re responsible. You are fine, beautiful, perfect The problem is not with you, it is with me.”

“What is the problem?” Jennifer asked calmly, as if she didn’t know.

“Jen, you and I, we…have nothing in common, we don’t belong together.”

Jennifer nodded slowly. “I see. Then what are you doing with me? Did I seduce you? I don’t recall it, I don’t make it a practice to ravish big, strong football players.”

He didn’t respond, not meeting her eyes.

Jennifer’s anger was a defense against her pain. “I have a question for you,” she said. “If you feel this way, why do you torment me by coming back?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Ah, yes, poor Nitsokan, torn between two worlds, unable to help himself, hung up on a woman who’s wrong for him. Do you know that you’re a hypocrite, Lee? You harbor the same prejudices against me that you once thought I had against Indians. What makes you so sure you’re right about this? Have I ever asked you to do anything contrary to your background or your beliefs?”

He dropped his eyes. “Not yet,” he said softly. “But one day.”

Jennifer folded her trembling hands together, trying for control. “If you honestly believe that, after what we just shared in that bedroom, then I think you’d better leave.”

Lee stood abruptly, thrusting his hands through his hair. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” Jennifer said flatly. “I don’t understand. The last time, when you left, I convinced myself that you were right. I knew what you were thinking, and I believed it, too. But now there’s tonight between us, and it’s becoming clearer every minute that the bottom line is either you have faith in me, or you don’t. And you obviously don’t.”

Lee turned on her, his eyes blazing the way they had when he’d spoken of his sister. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” he said bitterly. He jabbed his thumb at his bare chest. “Look at me. Do you think because I went to college, talk like an accountant, wear these clothes, that I am like you? What did you expect, war paint and sign language? What you see is a survival suit, protective coloration. Don’t be fooled by it Underneath I am as red as Montana clay.”

His voice was hoarse, his features contorted. “I am Siksika, Nitsokan, Youngest Son.” His hands stabbed the air, the right rubbing the left, back and forth twice, making the sign for “Indian” he’d once showed her, followed by another she didn’t understand. “I am Indian, and I am not like you.”

Gone was the light tone of the early days, when he had joked about Chingachgook. This was no laughing matter now. He saw a threat to his basic identity in his strong feeling for Jennifer and was asserting himself in the most fundamental way: “I am Indian, and I am not like you.”