The Hellion (37 page)

Gaines served hot cranberry drinks and soon Lily excused herself to tend to things in the kitchen. Rachel offered her hand, and as they left

the living room Lily turned back to suggest, "Tommy Lee, why don't you take Beth upstairs and show her your old room?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy, please?" Beth pleaded.

And so it was that with everyone occupied, Gaines found himself alone. He sat before the fire, sipping his hot drink, staring at the flames and reliving the years, the happy memories revived by the photographs and stories.

Of course, there had been pictures of Everett and Eulice, and these, too, he admitted, had brought their share of nostalgia. A golden flame leaped and licked while he stared at it, unseeing.

Who was it that got stubborn first ... me or Everett? he wondered. So long ago ... it was hard to remember. The kids went away and all the happiness seemed to go out of our lives. We were ashamed of what we'd done, and every time we faced each other we faced our own shame, and so it was easier to simply stop facing each other.

Gaines sighed, took an absent sip of his drink, listened to the sounds of the women getting things ready in the kitchen, an occasional spurt of

laughter from overhead, and pictured
       
447 Everett all alone in that empty house.

Everett, you and I have been a pair of mule-headed old fools, and it's time one of us did something about it.

He set his glass on the coffee table, sighed weightily, and went to the coat closet under the stairs to find his warm maroon sweater. After buttoning it from neck to hip, he slipped out the side door, closed it behind himself, and paused to look across the lifeless grass to the stone house beyond. He rolled the thick collar of the sweater up around his neck, stuck his hands into its pockets, and studied his feet as he made his way toward the familiar break in the hedge. There he stopped and took a moment to survey the opening--so much narrower now but still not quite obliterated. It appeared to have been waiting all these years for one of them to breach it again and lay the past to rest. He ducked low, pushed a branch aside, and crossed to the other side.

Front door or back? But a chill drizzle was falling, and the back door was closer. He climbed the steps, opened a squeaking screen and door, and moved with echoing footsteps across the wooden floor of the porch to a closed door that led

--he knew--into the back hall just beside the kitchen.

He knocked, stuffed his hands into his sweater pockets again, and waited.

An interminable time seemed to pass while Gaines pondered the probability that nobody ever came to Everett's back door anymore. He had just raised his knuckles to rap harder when the latch clicked and the door wheezed open with a grating of old swollen wood.

When Everett saw who was on his back porch his face became a mask of concealed surprise. He seemed unable to move and obviously didn't know what to say. The two men studied each other for several long, silent seconds while time spun backwards to a day when they, like their children, had freely moved within the scope of each other's everyday lives. They had missed a lot of shared good times in the last twenty-four years, and as their eyes met and held, they both realized it. Then the wind blew in through the screen, sending a shiver up Gaines's spine, and he took the bit between his teeth to state, "I think it's high time you and I had a talk, Everett. Can I come in?"

  
The turkey was on a carving board and the stuffing

had been scooped into a serving bowl.
      
449 Bustling trips were being made back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, and Lily called again, "Gaines?" She scowled and fussed. "Now, where is that man?"

Tommy Lee and Beth breezed into the kitchen. "Can we help?"

"Yes, carry that bird to the table and find your daddy. It's time he started carving it."

Board and bird disappeared through the doorway in the hands of Tommy Lee and were followed by vegetable bowls and gravy boats carried by the women. They were attempting to make room on the linen-covered table for the last of the dishes when the side door slammed and Gaines appeared in the dining room doorway.

"Set a place for one more, Mother. Look who's here."

Rachel was leaning over the table with a tureen of steaming sweet potatoes in her hands when Gaines stepped aside to reveal a slightly sheepish-looking Everett behind him. He hung back, his hands in his pockets, while Rachel stared, dumbfounded, then suddenly dropped the tureen and squealed, "Ouch!" as she pressed a

burned palm to her thigh.

Somebody said, "Rachel, are you all right?" But she didn't hear. Her attention was riveted on the man in the doorway. His eyes found her, and he gave a trembling smile that at last sent her moving around the table.

Even before she reached him, both hands were extended, and as he clasped them, she felt a tremor in his flesh.

"Daddy ..." she said. Then she was in his arms.

"Baby ..." he murmured against her ear, holding her as if she'd been lost and just now found.

Her heart felt as if it could not be contained within her breast; it threatened to swell and burst with its burden of joy.

"Oh, Daddy, you're here."

She backed off and lost herself for a brief emotional moment in his uncertain eyes, then spun to bestow a hug of equal fervor on Gaines. "Thank you ... oh, thank you," she whispered, kissing his florid cheek.

Then she returned to her father, and took his elbow to draw him into the room. She found tears in her eyes as she watched him pick out his hostess, nod, and murmur, "Lily."

"Welcome, Everett," Lily
      
451 greeted, coming forward to offer her hands much as Rachel had done a moment ago. And when she'd stepped back, Everett's eyes came to rest on Tommy Lee. Again he nodded stiffly, and though it was a stilted beginning, it was a beginning nevertheless.

"I don't believe you've met Tommy Lee's daughter, Beth," Rachel put in, to fill the awkward moment.

"Hello, Beth."

"Hi." Beth smiled.

Rachel's eyes met Tommy Lee's, and she didn't stop to question the awesome need that suddenly propelled her--she only knew she had to press herself against his chest, feel his arms around her shoulders, her heart beating vibrantly against his, while celebrating this moment for which they'd both waited so long.

He seemed to understand it, though, for when she came to him he held her tightly, his cheek against her hair, his chest solid and warm.

"I have everything I want now," Rachel whispered in his ear.

"So do I," came Tommy Lee's answer, while together they shared the overwhelming sense of true

thanksgiving.

  
They were married two days later in the parsonage of the First Baptist Church. It would have been asking too much too soon to expect Everett to be present. And anyway, Tommy Lee and Rachel wanted to keep the celebration as private as possible, so they decided the only witnesses they'd invite would be Beth and Sam and Daisy Davis.

After the ceremony Sam drove Beth to her grandpa and grandma Gentry's, where she would spend the remainder of the weekend, which was all the honeymoon Tommy Lee and Rachel were to have at present. It was the busiest season of the year in the retail business and impossible for Rachel to leave before Christmas. But as soon as the holiday rush ended, the Gentrys and their daughter were planning a family cruise together. Rachel didn't mind putting off the trip. There was really only one place she wanted to be on her wedding night. ...

  
The Cadillac pulled to a stop near the venerable 150-year-old magnolia tree in

Tommy Lee's front yard. The key
  
453 was switched off, and the chain swung silently from the ignition. Tommy Lee slipped his arm around Rachel's shoulders and drew her against his hip.

"Mrs. Gentry ... we're home."

"Yes ... at last."

He kissed her ear, then pressed his lips warmly against it while they both gazed at the house for a minute.

"It was a long road, getting here," he said quietly, the words stirring the hair at her temple.

"But we made it."

"Yes, we made it. Would you care to go inside and see what's in store for you for the rest of your life?"

She turned to brush a thistledown kiss on his lips. "I thought you'd never ask."

They smiled--brown eyes into brown eyes--with a look that spoke of unending love. Then Tommy Lee got out of the car and waited while she slipped under the steering wheel and joined him. With their arms around each other they strolled slowly across the gravel drive and up the wooden ramp to the twin doors leading to the home they'd planned when they were

too young to realize all it would entail to build and take possession of it.

He pulled open one shining black door, swung her up into his arms, and said against her lips, "This time we do everything according to the book-- right?"

"Right," she agreed, looping her arms around his neck.

Inside, he did an about-face, and Rachel kicked the door shut with a delicate mauve high heel. He mounted the stairs with her in his arms, all the way to the top level of the house, where he finally halted in the middle of a blue bedroom with a fireplace, a balcony, and a view of the lake.

Setting her on her feet, he reached immediately for the single button at the waist of her mauve wool suit jacket. "Once upon a time," he began, "there was a little girl named Rachel who lived next door to a boy named Tommy Lee. Right from the beginning he had eyes for her--from the day they first sat together in their birthday suits in a little plastic swimming pool."

"In their birthday suits? Tsk, tsk, tsk." Rachel played along as he turned her around and took the jacket from her shoulders, then

tossed it onto a chair before swinging her
   
455 to face him again, pulling the waist of an ivory silk blouse out of her skirt.

"Uh-huh. That's when it all started, I believe. Then, when they were about seven, eight years old, he had second thoughts--you see, the girl of his dreams lost all of her front teeth. Oh, she was quite a sight then! Nothing at all like the little doll he'd always known." The wrinkled tails of her blouse hung free, and he raised his hands to the top button and worked downward at a leisurely pace that matched his story.

"But things got even worse. She got freckles, and a shape like a bean pole, and he didn't know what in the world she was going to turn into. But along about this time he started thinking that even though she wasn't much to look at, she wasn't so bad to have around. After all, she was just like one of the boys--liked to climb trees, punch, wrestle, build tree forts. Yup, he decided, this tomboy was for him!"

Rachel's face was bright with suppressed laughter while her husband grinned into her eyes, lazily reached for one ivory cuff, and

unbuttoned it without ever dropping his eyes.

"But you'll never guess what happened," Tommy Lee went on, while she docilely offered him the other cuff, her amused eyes locked with his. "One day, out of the clear blue sky, he looked at her and did a double take. Lord a'mighty"--the blouse flew toward the chair, missed, and slithered to the floor--"she'd grown up."

Rachel was growing warm and tingly at his leisurely seduction, but he took his own sweet time with the story. "Her tousled hair was all combed neatly and pulled into this cute little corkscrew of a ponytail. ..." He drew her hair back from her temples and held it tightly somewhere behind her head. "And the freckles seemed to dissolve into peaches and cream"--he dropped her hair, brushed a knuckle over her cheek--"and she started wearing lipstick"--he touched her lips--"and he began to be fascinated by it, and by her mouth. Until one day he decided to kiss her, just to see what it'd feel like." He leaned forward lazily and brushed his lips to hers, breathing warmly against her mouth after the kiss ended. "It felt absolutely wonderful. He

decided he wanted more of that." And
    
   
457 Tommy Lee took more, slipping his tongue into Rachel's mouth with a sinuous invitation she immediately answered. Her heart beat crazily, just as it had that first time. But all too soon he drew back and the story continued.

"It was about that time that she started getting curves." His hands clasped her shoulders, kneading them gently while she went loose and malleable and let his motions rock her on her feet. "A waist"--his hand slid down over her arms and clasped her waist--"and hips. ..." His hands dropped lower. "And pretty soon she gave up blue denims for skirts and sweaters, and that's when he realized she not only had a waist and hips, but breasts, too."

His hands rode up her silky slip to cup both lace-bound breasts, thrusting them sharply upward while finding their points with his thumbs, drawing circles that sent rippling sensations through Rachel's limbs. When her nipples were hard and erect, he drew back only far enough to bestow that lazy grin on her. "And the first time he touched them he knew it wasn't going to end there."

He released her breasts and freed the button

at her waist. "They learned a lot together, these two." The zipper snicked open and the skirt fell to the floor.

As Rachel stepped out of it, she reached for his suit jacket and forced it back over his shoulders. "It must have been scary," she said, "all those firsts." His jacket joined hers on the chair and she reached for the knot of his tie.