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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
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Ruby raised her head. From this angle Calvin's eyes didn't seem so narrow, and they were definitely full of some feeling. The word lust ricocheted around her mind. What was he seeing in her eyes? She had no time to think about it because he was kissing her, his lips mashing her own, but he was off the mark by half an inch. Laughter bubbled in her throat, but died when his tongue parted her lips.
She pressed closer, twisting slightly so that their lips were even. Her arms reached out to circle his back, bringing her closer still. She tasted apple on his tongue.
Calvin's sudden yelp of surprise startled Ruby. Flushed, she reared back, aware that her hipbone was grinding into Calvin's groin. She was responsible for the hard bulge in his uniform trousers.
“Jesus,” he groaned, and turned away from her.
“What's wrong?” Ruby demanded.
“There's nothing wrong,” he said. “It's just that you're a good girl, and guys have ... what they do is they ... they muck around with girls who don't care. You care, I know you do. That marine you're going out with tomorrow is that kind of guy. I'm not.”
“How do you know that?” Ruby demanded, not liking this turn in their conversation.
“I know, that's all. I bunk with guys like him. All they do is screw around and talk about their scores over breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They don't say nice things, either.”
Ruby digested the information. Calvin respected her. That was good.
“I think we should kiss some more. Not right now or even today,” Ruby said hesitantly, “but one of these days. How else will we get to know if we really do like one another?”
“I know now and I do like you. If I thought you could ever be serious about someone like me, I could even see us married someday. We'd have a girl who looks like you and a boy who looks like both of us.”
Ruby stared intently into Calvin's eyes. “Why don't you want the boy to look like you? If we got married, I'd want him to look like you.”
“I don't want him to go through what I've gone through. I don't want him to be different.”
“I'd want him to look just like you,” Ruby said softly, “and I'd make sure every day of his life that he knew he was the greatest person in the world. I could do it, too. My children are not going to be raised the way I was. I'm going to love them and do things with them, and I'm always going to listen when they tell me something. I'll never be too busy when they want to confide. I'll be their parent and their friend, too. I know I can do both. What kind of parent do you think you'll be?” she asked breathlessly.
“Strict.”
“Not if you marry me,” Ruby said blandly. “On the other hand, I might never get married.”
Calvin's face fell. “Why?”
“For one thing, I don't ever want to have the kind of marriage my parents have. I think they hate each other. My grandparents had a wonderful marriage. They laughed a lot and touched one another. You have to love someone a lot to get married.” She wondered what kind of marriage Calvin's parents had and if he would volunteer or confide in her. She waited, but he remained quiet and thoughtful.
Finally, instead of answering, Calvin leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. It was a sweet, gentle kiss that spoke of many things and promised even more.
When they moved apart, Ruby's eyes were shining. “I liked that,” she said with no trace of embarrassment.
Calvin threw back his head and laughed so hard, tears came to his eyes. It was a moment Ruby treasured, and it stayed with her for the rest of her life.
“Come on, I'm taking you out to dinner, so put on your lipstick. Is there someplace we can ditch this picnic basket without going back to the Y?”
“Dinner? You mean in a big restaurant or the Hot Shoppe?”
“Hogates on the Potomac, Ninth and Maine Avenue. South-west. Best seafood in town. I think you'll like it. Unless there's someplace else you'd rather go?”
“It's the company that counts, and if you're paying, it should be your choice.” A dinner date. Wait till she told Nola and her grandmother. She didn't like fish all that much, but if Calvin did, she would learn to like it.
“How about Chinese food, then?” Calvin said, as if he couldn't make up his mind.
“If you really mean it, then I'd love to! I've never been to a Chinese restaurant. Are you sure?”
“Of course I'm sure. We'll go to the Dragon. Next week we can go someplace else.”
When they were outside the Dragon, Ruby looked pointedly at the picnic basket. “I'll tell them we have our favorite cat in here,” Calvin said, flipping the lid. “Or should I look the guy in the eye and stare him down and mumble something about military secrets?”
“I like the one with the cat.” Ruby giggled. He had a sense of humor, too, Ruby thought happily. Damn, her world was so right, it was scary.
An elderly Chinese man with a long, straggly beard looked at the basket but made no comment. Calvin raised his eyes and Ruby giggled.
Ruby ordered chop suey and Calvin ordered chow mein. They ate from each other's plates and drank the entire pot of tea. The litchi nuts were sweet and wet. She loved them and ate six. Calvin ate two. They saved the fortune cookies till last.
“You read yours first, Calvin.”
Calvin snapped open the crusty cookie and stared down at the message.
“Well, what does it say?” Ruby demanded excitedly.
Calvin cleared his throat twice. “It says, ‘Your true love sits next to you.' ” Calvin flushed, knowing his ears were as red as apples.
“That's so romantic.” She broke her cookie open, certain it was going to echo Calvin's message. She read it twice and then a third time. “It says, ‘You're almost there.' What do you suppose that means? Oh, well, I guess we shouldn't take this too seriously. Can I have yours? I'll paste them in my album.”
She watched Calvin deflate before her eyes. He puffed up immediately when he realized Ruby was staring at him.
“I think,” he said loftily, “there was a slight printing error.”
“I think so, too,” Ruby laughed as she pocketed both messages.
It was twenty minutes of nine when they parted, Ruby to the Y and Calvin, back to the base, as he had to go on duty at eleven. Ruby turned at the last minute and called, “I'll think about you tomorrow. If you want to call me at the Y tomorrow night, I'll be in the lobby at ten o'clock.”
“I will,” Calvin shouted.
The night was warm and comfortable, as warm and comfortable as having Ruby sitting next to him in the park. He craned his neck to see the millions of tiny stars overhead, knowing Ruby was probably looking at them just the way he was. Right now, this very second, he believed he could do anything, be anything he wanted if Ruby believed in him. It occurred to him that Ruby was a crutch to lean on. He slumped down on the seat. Ruby didn't need a crutch. Guts, she said. Ruby was tough where it counted, like some of the guys in his outfit. But she was soft, too, incredibly soft and gentle, and he loved her sense of humor. She'd made him laugh out loud. He couldn't remember when he'd laughed like that. Years and years ago. Far too long to be so serious and miserable. God, he was happy. Tomorrow night he would be even happier when he talked to Ruby at ten o'clock and she told him what a miserable time she had with the marine.
Calvin continued to watch the dark night through the bus windows as he plotted the marine's death in fifty different ways. Ruby was his, that's all there was to it. She'd even said she would think about him tomorrow.
Before going on duty, Calvin showered and dressed in a clean uniform. He was as meticulous with his dress as he was with everything in his life. He wanted no condemnations, no questioning glances. He wanted to blend in, to be unobtrusive yet noticed at the same time.
Satisfied with his appearance, he left his quarters and did double time to the office, where he would spend the next eight hours.
It wasn't until he was settled behind his desk that a terrible thought struck him. He couldn't be the rock, the stable force for Ruby that most men were for their girls, though only to himself would he admit that. In order to be that way he had to be in control of his own life, and he wasn't. What bothered him more was the realization that Ruby was her own rock. She didn't need his support. The thought that his girl didn't
need
him caused perspiration to bead on his forehead. Today she'd spent a lot of time bolstering his ego, and like a jellyfish, he'd let her. He'd needed her strength, her little pep talks. She made him feel like a real person, like a white person. It occurred to him at some point, when he was halfway through the duty rosters, that in a way he was using Ruby, but he pushed the thought so far back into his mind, he immediately forgot it.
 
The moment Ruby struggled to wakefulness, she knew it was going to be a miserable day. Her small room was filled with gloomy early morning shadows. She propped herself on her elbow and squinted to see through the slats of the opened venetian blind. Outside, the day looked gray. She listened intently for the sounds of birds but heard nothing.
She didn't want to get up, didn't want to meet Andrew Blue, or go to church. She wanted to lie in bed and think about Calvin. She felt warm all over when she remembered the way it felt to kiss him. She smiled at the memory of his red ears. Her breathing quickened when she recalled the frenzied couple down the hill from where they sat. She mouthed the word sex several times, then said it aloud. Her face grew warm.
Ruby burrowed her face into her pillow to stifle her laughter as she imagined herself and Calvin having sex. He was so meticulous, he would probably want to wear his spiffy, pressed uniform during the entire act. And even if he didn't, Calvin was as virginal as she was. The stupid leading the ignorant.
Andrew Blue, on the other hand, struck her as experienced. She knew that before the end of the day, he would try something with her. She wondered how she would handle him. She wanted to know how a man's hands would feel on her so she would know how to react when Calvin got around to it.
Calvin and Andrew. Andrew and Calvin. Calvin, Andrew, and Ruby. A triangle. She was part of a triangle. She stretched luxuriously, feeling wonderful, almost wicked. At least her thoughts were wicked. She imagined they were the kind of thoughts Grace Zachary would have.
It had been Grace who told Ruby about sex, and to this day, that little bit was all Ruby knew.
“Honey,” Grace had said, “sex is as natural as eating breakfast. You know how you don't like oatmeal too much, but you can still eat it and feel full? Well, sex can be like that or it can be like this huge, scrumptious breakfast I always make for Paul on Sunday mornings: waffles with blueberry syrup, light scrambled eggs with the bacon just crispy enough, toast with homemade strawberry preserves and delicious yellow butter, fresh-squeezed orange juice and coffee that smells up the whole house. Sex for me and Paul is always like that,” Grace said, her eyes lighting up with love for her husband.
“Everyone in town thought I was a tramp, some kind of wild slut because I liked to have a good time, but I was a virgin when I married Paul. The people in this town are house angels and street devils,” she said sourly, “not that I give a hoot what they think about me. Me and Paul have a good marriage, probably one of the best in this stinking town. Do you understand what I just said, Ruby?”
“Pretty much. I guess it's not good to have sex before you get married, huh?”
“If you care about what people think, then the answer is no. If you're in love and don't care about what other people think, then go ahead. Life is too short to worry about other people.”
Puzzled, Ruby said, “But you waited.”
Grace laughed ruefully. “I came damn close, honey, any number of times, but something always held me back. I was in love. That's why I waited. There's a world of difference between lust and love, Ruby,” Grace said gently.
Ruby thought Grace was pretty with her wild blond hair that resembled a bird's nest out of control. Her wide baby-blue eyes and sweet dimples complimented her glowing skin that she said she worked at twice a day with Porcelana and glycerine water. Her hands were soft, the fingers long and tapered with rosy red polish on the nails. Her toenails, too. Sinful, Ruby's father said.
Grace tilted her head to the side, her hands on her ample hips. “You thinking about taking the leap?” She grinned.
Ruby blushed. “Oh, no. I just ... you know I need to ... everyone should know ... certain things. I asked Mom once, but she almost died.”
“It figures,” Grace said sourly. “What about your pa?”
Ruby snorted. “Can you picture me asking my father
anything,
Grace?”
“No, kid, I can't. When you get out of this burg, I better not ever catch you coming back, you hear me?”
“Don't worry, I'm never coming back. I'll send you a postcard, how's that, and if I ever find anyone to ... to love or lust after, I'll write to you before I ... I do anything.”
Ruby wondered if it was time to write.
 
Andrew was in the lobby and so was Amber when Ruby stepped out of the elevator. This was one thing she was going to put a stop to. From now on, Andrew Blue had better not open his mouth where she was concerned to her sister.
Andrew was on his feet in a flash. “You look pretty, Ruby,” he said.
“Are you ready?” she asked coolly as her eyes sought out her sister's. “We're going to church, now,” she lied. She waited for some word from Amber but her sister remained quiet, although her eyes followed Ruby till she was through the door and outside in the pelting rain.
BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
4.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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