A Love for All Time

by Dorothy Garlock

  Casey covered the two long picnic tables with a terry cloth cover and they set cups, plates, napkins, and silver on one end.

  “Is this all we have to do?”

  “Well make coffee later. We’ve got a good thirty minutes before they descend on us and I want to spend it quietly with you.” He took her hand and they walked slowly through the kitchen and into the living room.

  There was a fragile magic around them. They were in perfect harmony. It was as if they had always been together, Casey thought as she looked at his tousled hair, nose leaning to one side. He wasn’t handsome, certainly; he didn’t have to be, with those compelling eyes and perfect body. Even in jeans and sweat shirt he looked like the commercial for a body building ad.

  He tugged on her hand and they sank down on the couch. He gathered her in his arms, and pressed his face into her hair, being careful not to muss it, as if knowing how important it was to her to have it carefully arranged.

  “Dan . . . how did you manage to stay single for so long?”

  “I almost married once, but as the time drew closer to take the fatal plunge I knew that things weren’t right. I used a delaying tactic and, sure enough, she backed out when she found out I was just a working stiff like the rest of the people in our company.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he watched her reaction through half closed lids.

  “You don’t seem to be exactly poor? Were you heartbroken?”

  “Oh, God love you. You haven’t a clue to what some women are like, have you?” He was amused and laughter rippled in his voice as he rocked her back and forth in his arms. “To someone whose papa could back a movie she wanted to be in and furnish her with her own Lear Jet, I was poor. Then, when she found out I had no intention of joining her and living off papa, she decided she didn’t love me after all. All this happened when I was young and going over fool’s hill.”

  “Fool’s hill? What’s that?”

  “That’s the time in your life when you think the world’s your oyster and you do dumb things.” He looked into her eyes, rubbed her nose with his. His eyes were dancing with devilment and the slight upturning smile of his lips was boyish. “You took a lot of time with your makeup tonight. You are beautiful. Hush!” He put his fingers over her lips when she closed them firmly. “I’ve only seen pictures of you without the scar. I couldn’t love you more if it wasn’t there.” Gentle fingers traced the outline of the scar and for the first time they touched the mangled ear beneath her hair.

  Casey froze. Then he was kissing her, starting out with a sort of apologetic pressure of lips on hers, but the gentleness gave way to mutual need for a more satisfying kiss. His fingers fumbled with the belt at her waist, loosened it, and burrowed beneath the sweater to her breast. She had lost her fear that his hand would find its way to the breast that was injured. Not since that first time had he attempted to touch it.

  Casey’s makeup was being spoiled. She could have pulled away, but she didn’t. It was reckless and idiotic to make love here on the couch, but it was earthshaking the way his mouth moved lazily, sensually, teasing and playing with hers. Her hand slid under his shirt and flattened on his chest. The rough texture of the hair on his chest always excited her as did the smooth flesh over his ribs. He worked at the zipper on her jeans. “Oh, Dan ... we can’t!”

  “Why can’t we? No one will come but Aunt Bea.” “No one but Aunt Bea! Oh, Dan, you idiot!” His kiss deepened to hot drugging sweetness and she was floating on air. Her hands slipped inside his pants, inside the cotton briefs, and she heard the low rumble in his throat.

  The back door banged. “Ya-hooo! Daniel! I need some help getting the pies over.”

  The language Dan used as Casey hastily withdrew her hands caused a giggle to burst from her lips. “Remind me to put a lock on that damn door,” he growled. Then, “Oh, God!”

  Casey’s eyes followed his to where the zipper on his fly was in danger of bursting. She couldn’t stop her peal of laughter. She fastened her belt and tossed the newspaper over his lap.

  “Read the paper. I’ll help Aunt Bea. Big Dan Murdock, helpless as a baby,” she taunted.

  “Depraved hussy,” he called softly as she left the room.

  Casey couldn’t imagine how Aunt Bea got through the screen door with a pie in each hand, but she had managed.

  “You two been smoochin’ again? Daniel’s kissed all your lip rouge off. I’ll swear. That boy won’t give you any rest till you marry him, and not then for awhile. He’ll probably keep you in bed for a week. That’s what his pa did to his ma. She was pregnant with Hank before she got out of bed.”

  The plain talk brought color to Casey’s cheeks. “Ah . . . Mrs. . . . Dan never did tell me your name.”

  “Yes, he did. Aunt Bea’s my name.” Dark eyes smiled up at Casey and a plump arm circled her waist. “Don’t be afraid you’re getting too familiar. Everybody calls me Aunt Bea.”

  “Then I will, too. I was already thinking of you as Aunt Bea.”

  “I suppose you two are conspiring against me.” Dan’s voice came from behind them.

  Casey looked back, eyes wide, and asked innocently, “Did you get the paper read . . . already?”

  He cupped her buttock with a strong hand. “Yes, I got the paper read . . . already,” he mimicked. “Do you want me to run over and get the rest of the pies, Aunt Bea?”

  “I’ll go with you. Casey needs to go upstairs and put on more lip rouge. Then you leave her be, Daniel. She wants to look nice tonight.”

  Casey moved her hand to pat Dan’s cheek, smiling wickedly at him. “Mind what your Aunt Bea tells you,” she cautioned and scurried out of his reach.

  Ten

  Casey was alone in the kitchen with Aunt Bea when she heard the dog bark, then a car door slam. Soon the sound of a woman’s voice giving orders with the precision of a drill sergeant reached her ears. “John, take this carton of chicken to the kitchen. Don’t go through the house, Jim. Julie take the baby’s hand and both of you stay away from Sadie. Don’t rush off, Justin. We’ve more things to carry in.”

  Casey sank down on a stool because she couldn’t have stood a second longer. Her legs were trembling. Smile, Casey. Put that smile on automatic. Don’t let anyone know what’s really going on in your mind. Things like wishing you were back in Portland, fear, wishing you were back in Portland ... Be pleasant even if they stare at you. . . . Damn! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! You’ve got a right to be here. The fact that Dan wants you here is your right. Where’s your guts, Casey? Gone!

  Dammit! Gone!

  She was completely unaware of the misery in her eyes when she looked at Aunt Bea.

  “Don’t think you’re going to get out of helping, Casey. Here’s a knife, start cutting on those pies. Cut the little ones in six pieces and the big ones in eight.” She moved the pies down the counter. “That’s Marge and her five. She’s a jewel of a mother. She’s training her kids right, too. Can’t say as much for Helen. She’s too busy golfing.”

  Casey grabbed onto the knife like a lifeline, relieved to have something to do. Her eyes kept going to the door. Dan said he would be with her. Oh, hell! she thought in self-disgust. Why am I being so chicken? It’s no big deal!

  The porch door slammed and five children tried to come through the kitchen door at the same time.

  “Leave the food out on the porch, kids,” Aunt Bea called and there was another scramble to get back through the door.

  “Thanks, guys.” The drill sergeant’s voice was softer. “Go on out and play. Stay away from the river and keep your eye on Jayne. When you start the ball game, bring her in, and I’ll watch her.”

  Casey didn’t have time to imagine a body to go with the voice talking to the children, still she was surprised when a small woman with short dark hair and a sweet smile came into the kitchen. She was wearing jeans, a checked shirt, and running shoes. Her eyes went straight to Casey and stayed there. They were large and smiling and Casey couldn’t possibly do anythin
g but smile back at her.

  “You’re Casey.”

  “Course she’s Casey,” Aunt Bea chuckled. “The minute I laid eyes on her I knew she was the one for Daniel. Wait’ll you see the two of them together. Him, so dark, and her, all gold . . . like honey.”

  Marge came around the counter, a genuine welcome on her face. “I’m Marge, Fred’s wife. I’m so glad to meet you, at last. I’ve been nervous all day.” She hugged Casey and pressed her cheek briefly, then stood back smiling.

  “You’ve been nervous?” Casey laughed with pure relief. “I’ve been about to blow a gasket!”

  “Hi, Marge.” Dan came in from the porch. “I see you’ve already met my lady.” He put his arm across his sister-in-law’s shoulders and she circled his body with hers and gave him a hug.

  “Yes, I’ve met her. How’re you doin’, Danny?”

  “Fine, my little Margie, how about you?” He placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “Unhand my woman, boy!”

  The man had come in from the living room. He was shorter than Dan but the family resemblance was there in the dark hair and eyes, and the stocky build. His dark hair was threaded with gray and he wore a mustache.

  “Darling! I didn’t expect you so soon.” Marge went to him and raised her face for his kiss. “You didn’t go by home and change clothes,” she scolded. “Give me your coat. Take off that tie and be comfortable.” “I wanted to look nice when I met Casey,” he said in a staged whisper.

  “You don’t need to look nice for Casey. You belong to me,” Marge whispered back.

  “And mighty glad that I do.” With an arm around his wife he walked over and held out his hand.

  “I’m Fred.”

  Casey almost winced at the firm clasp of his hand. “Hello, Fred. Happy to meet you.”

  “I’m glad this kid’s got a woman of his own. He’s been loving on mine for years,” he said and playfully poked his finger in Dan’s chest. Then, “Why hello, Aunt Honey Bea. How are you doing? What did you make for me to eat? I never get anything good to eat at home.”

  “Hear that, Marge. I’d not cook for him if I was you. You men better get out there and herd them youngsters so us women can get the food out. Helen and her bunch should be coming.”

  Dan stood close to Casey. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “You go on. I’ll be fine,” she whispered and meant it.

  Helen Murdock was a tall, prematurely gray-haired woman, with a large but trim frame and wide hips. She was pleasant when introduced to Casey, but she lacked the warmth of her sister-in-law. Her children were loud and boisterous and plainly adored their Uncle Dan. She announced that Hank would be late and that they should go ahead and eat without him. The sister she had in tow was a younger replica of herself with blond hair and a sallow complexion that Casey knew at a glance was. due to the wrong kind of makeup and hair coloring. The woman offered a cold, limp hand and Casey touched it briefly.

  Casey floated along on a light cloud of happiness, chiding herself for doubting that Dan’s family would be anything but welcoming. The conversation was light, bantering, never serious. They talked of nothing profound or personal. To her surprise, she found herself chatting easily with Fred and the women. Dan played a game of ball with the children and herded them inside to eat. His eyes turned to Casey at every opportunity and when he was near he touched her, caressed her, and in every possible way showed his family he cared about her. It was the warmest, most wonderful feeling Casey had ever experienced.

  Only one thing happened to bring reality back in focus. When they were sitting down at the picnic tables on the porch Helen’s sister’s child refused to sit at the table with the other children. She was a thin, whining child of about six. Her

  mother tried to make her sit on the bench beside Casey. The child stiffened and scrambled away.

  “No! I won’t sit by her. One side of her face is all ucky! Her hands are ucky, too!” She stood back and glared at Case defiantly.

  There was total silence.

  Casey swallowed hard. She knew her face was aflame. In the quiet that followed the child’s outburst her heart pulsed with an acute pain. To make matters worse, the child’s mother tried to apologize.

  “I’m sorry. Maryann isn’t used to seeing anyone ... ah ... who is ... You see she’s very sensitive to others and ...”

  “She’s so sensitive she needs her bottom spanked,” Aunt Bea said from the other end of the table.

  “Aunt Bea!” This came from Helen. “She’s only a child.”

  Casey prayed the floor would open up and swallow her. All eyes were riveted to her face. Then pride surfaced. Damn this woman and her ill-mannered child. She smiled, although her face felt as if it was set in plaster, and resisted the desire to cover her cheek with her hand. Instead she tilted her head to allow the smooth curtain of golden hair to slide forward.

  “It’s all right,” she said to the child’s mother through stiff lips.

  “I’m sure Maryann will get used to you,” the woman said lamely and Casey wanted to hit her. Shut up! she screamed silently.

  Dan’s hand moved across her lap, burrowed between her thighs, and squeezed hard. Casey didn’t dare look at him or she would burst into tears and disgrace both of them.

  The commotion of serving the children kept the others occupied and Casey managed to get her emotions under control. She held tightly to the hand that lay in her lap until she had to release it so Dan could eat. The meal was bearable because of the constant chatter among Marge, her husband, and Dan. When it was over, the children went back to their play and Casey got up to help Aunt Bea clear the table.

  “Sit right there and talk to Marge while she feeds Jayne,” Aunt Bea commanded. “Helen and Lucy can help me take care of this.”

  “I want mama to play with me,” Maryann said. Her small face was set stubbornly and her eyes didn’t waver as she looked directly at Casey.

  “Well ... I never!” Aunt Bea stood with hands on her ample hips.

  “Come on, darling. Sit in here on a stool while mama helps Aunty Bea.” Lucy urged the child into the kitchen.

  Marge’s lips quirked into a smile and her bright eyes sought Fred’s. Casey saw the look of understanding pass between them and Fred leaned over and kissed his wife on the lips.

  “I know,” he whispered. “You’re a mean mama. Our kids would never get away with that.”

  “You better believe it!”

  The love between the two of them was obvious to Casey. Dan would be that kind of husband and father if he truly loved the woman he married. The physical attraction he felt for her was undeniable. But love? Was it possible to love so intensely on such short acquaintance? Was it pity, or guilt he was mistaking for love?

  Marge and Fred gathered their family together and left after Marge made arrangements to come over and spend the afternoon while Dan was away. Helen was loading her children in a large van when her husband arrived. One by one the children, with the exception of Maryann, came to tell them good-bye. Casey almost burst out laughing when the child peeked from behind her mother and stuck out her tongue. Somehow it eased the tension that clawed at her stomach and she just barely resisted the impulse to poke out her own tongue.

  There was much hugging and kissing between Hank and his children before Helen drove away. This confirmed Casey’s first impression that the Murdocks were strong family men. She studied Hank as he walked toward them. He was as tall as Dan but not as heavily built. His hair had receded far back from his forehead and he wore large, dark-rimmed glasses.

  “Sorry to be so late,” he said as he approached them. “There was an accident at the mill and I wanted to wait around and find out how serious it was. The young Franklin boy almost lost a hand.” He held out his hand to Casey and smiled, but somehow Casey didn’t think the smile quite reached his eyes. “Hello, Casey. I see you survived the thundering herd, as Aunt Bea calls them.”

  “Oh, yes. I’m not all that fragile.”

 
Dan threw an arm casually across her shoulders. “Come on in, Hank. Aunt Bea saved your supper.”

  When Hank left an hour later, Casey was convinced he was somewhat less than enthusiastic about her being in his brother’s home. He and Dan had sat at the table and talked business. There was a problem with the foreign contract and Dan would have to go to Japan to straighten it out. Casey chatted with Aunt Bea and, after she left to go back through the break in the fence to her own house, Casey wandered into the living room. Later she couldn’t remember Dan’s older brother directing any conversation to her other than the greeting when he came and “goodnight, Casey” when he left.