The mayor relinquished him and righted the cuffs of his white jacket.
“Will we be expecting to see you in Deerhorn for summer vacations?”
“No.”
“Are you going to be using our fine post office to deliver letters and postcards?”
Adam thought about Stacy’s rules.
“No.”
“Then I apologize in advance for what I’m about to do,” the mayor said. “But if I don’t do it, my wife is going to make me sleep on the couch for a week.”
It was then that Lefty Pincham hauled off and slugged Adam full in the face.
“WHAT DID SHE SAY?” Karen asked when Stacy returned from the bank of pay telephones.
“She’s coming to the hospital to pick you up and you’ll play at Pam’s house.”
Karen sighed dreamily.
“Pam has the best dolls.”
Stacy was grateful that Mrs. Pincham had agreed to take Karen, had even said that she was planning on inviting Karen over today anyhow and that Stacy had simply saved her the call. But the real generosity was in offering to come to the Geneva Memorial Hospital—forty miles from Deerhorn, in the next county—to pick up Karen since Stacy didn’t have a car.
That Mrs. Pincham had not, by word or intonation, made any reference to the exposure of Stacy’s relationship with Adam was striking evidence of the mayor’s wife’s status as a saint.
Could it be that Deerhorn had evolved to the point that two consenting, otherwise unattached adults could have an affair without provoking a tempest in a—?
“But no tea party?” Karen asked.
“Not today,” Stacy said. “Marion’s husband is taking the day off to take care of the boys, but I know I’m going to need to help out at their house when Marion gets bandaged up.”
“What about tonight?”
Stacy had no idea, but the outer doors of the emergency room slid open before she could say another word. A thin, reedy wail preceded the mayor, who held his right hand in a towel.
“Mayor Pincham!” Stacy leapt to her feet. “What happened?”
“His face connected with my fist,” Mayor Pincham whined, pointing his towel at Adam.
Adam, coming up behind him, rubbed his jaw.
“I’ve got an election coming up in November,” Lefty added indignantly, “and just how am I going to campaign with this hand? My fingers are broken!”
“Everyone knows you,” Stacy said. “And no one ever runs against you. They don’t need to shake your hand. You’ll still be mayor.”
She looked up at Adam.
“What did you do to Mayor Pincham?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything. This animal you call your mayor slugged me.”
“Because he’s taking advantage of you, Stacy,” the mayor explained. “It’s just physical for him. He hasn’t got a matrimonial intention in his body.”
“That’s none of your business,” Adam charged. “And if you weren’t an injured man, I’d—”
“Mayor, I asked him to make love to me,” Stacy said.
Everyone shut up. Even the mayor, who was a skilled conversationalist and enjoyed the sweet sound of his melodic voice. Even Adam, who felt as if he had come into a land more foreign than any across borders made by nations. Even Mrs. Pincham, who had just swept into the emergency room as Karen darted out past her to the sidewalk to meet Pam. Even Marion, who had emerged from the emergency room with her right arm bandaged and a sizeable list of chores the doctor had told her not to perform for several days.
“I asked him to make love to me,” Stacy repeated more calmly, even as the native Deerhorn listeners gasped. “I’m not getting any younger and I don’t expect I’ll ever marry. I thought I should experience lovemaking, well, at least once.”
The mayor glanced once to the right and once to the left to be assured of relative privacy.
“And you’ve…made love?”
“More than once.”
This shocking and brazen admission was followed up by a declaration that shook Adam to his core.
“I’ve done it and I enjoyed it,” Stacy said. “But now it’s over.”
“Over?” Adam asked.
“Over,” Stacy confirmed. “It was wonderful. You were so kind.”
“It wasn’t kindness—”
“But I don’t wish to continue our relationship.”
“Now, Stacy, I can understand a woman might have physical needs that drive her to ill-advised leee-ay-zons,” the mayor offered before his wife’s heel firmly connected with his foot.
“Come along, Lefty,” she said, tugging sharply at his sleeve. “Let’s find a doctor to take a look at that right hand of yours. Stacy, would you take Pam and Karen home? Bobby’s not doing anything useful—tell him he can take care of the girls.”
“Delighted,” Stacy said, carefully avoiding Adam’s heart-struck gaze. “Do you think there’s any chance that Bobby would want a part-time job baby-sitting Karen for Adam?”
“He sure would,” Mrs. Pincham called out from the end of the hall. “That kid spends more money on CDs and junk food than a kid has a right to.”
“Adam, we’ve solved your baby-sitting problem,” Stacy said.
“Adam, by the way, I’m very sorry about the punch!” the mayor threw over his shoulder as his wife hustled him through the double doors of the emergency room.
Adam stared at Stacy. Her eyes were wide and moist, but her arms were crossed over her chest. He figured her for stubborn, but he wasn’t ready to give up.
“But we’re not talking about baby-sitting. We’re talking about a relationship.”
Stacy’s lips pressed together firmly.
Marion hopped on one foot and then another.
“Oh, all right, I’m going!” she finally exploded. “I guess you’re not going to say anything good while I’m around. I’ll put the girls in the car.”
“My car,” Adam said, pulling out his keys. “Stacy came in the ambulance with you, remember?”
He waited until Marion was out of earshot and then he leaned close.
“You were just fooling, right?”
“About what?” Stacy looked at him from out of the corner of her eye.
“About it being over.”
“No. I wasn’t. It was wonderful. But it’s over.”
Adam looked around. The lobby was empty except for a woman at the reception desk who was reading the Milwaukee newspaper.
“Sure. I hear you,” Adam conceded. “And you looked very convincing. Sounded really firm. But everyone’s gone. You can tell me now.”
“It’s over, Adam,” Stacy said. Her chin tilted upward. “You’re a wonderful lover. Handsome, sensitive and considerate. Skilled, even. A lot of fun, too. But it’s over. And if you want me to baby-sit Karen, I’ll do it for eight dollars an hour. But that’s all it would be. Baby-sitting.”
“You’re serious.”
“Absolutely.”
“You can’t let the judgment of a bunch of hicks—”
“They are not a bunch of hicks. This is my town,” she glanced around. “This is technically the next county, but Deerhorn is my town. And our morality is different from yours. I can be forgiven for one lapse. But not two.”
“—small-minded—”
“If they’re small-minded, I’m small-minded. Because I feel the same way. Making love because you’re committed to a man is the way it should be. Making love should be for married folks—or at least for people who are in a relationship. No, no, don’t say it. This isn’t a relationship. I wanted to know what making love was all about. Now I know. It’s wonderful. You showed me that it’s a gift, a beautiful gift that God and nature gave people. Thank you. I will always remember this and you fondly. And now it’s over.”
She walked out the doors, into the sunlight without a backward glance.
“Stacy, don’t do this.”
But she was already gone.
Adam stared.
It was the first time in his life a
woman had ever left him.
ON THE WAY HOME from the hospital, the girls sang Old MacDonald’s Farm and planned a Barbie-doll party they would hold in Pam’s bedroom.
Marion, seated between the two girls in the back seat, dictated to Stacy a list of the things she needed to do today but couldn’t on account of her injured wrist.
“Call the past-due accounts, tally up the bills from the suppliers, make a pie for the church bake sale—”
No one, but no one, made any mention of Adam and Stacy’s relationship.
When Adam pulled into the Pincham driveway, the girls flew out of the car. Karen looked back once to yell goodbye.
“I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Adam said tightly. “I need you.”
“You need a baby-sitter,” Stacy corrected. “And Bob Pincham is a very responsible teenager. He’ll do just fine.”
Adam looked doubtfully at the front door, out of which appeared a long-limbed, sullen-faced youth with hair the color of a lemon Popsicle.
“Looks like he’s going through another one of his phases,” Marion opined. “Hello, Bob.”
“Hey,” Bob said, putting his elbows on the passenger door. “My ma called. I’m baby-sitting, right? I charge five an hour.”
“I don’t know,” Adam said. “What kind of qualifications do you have?”
“It’s the hair, right?” Bob asked. “Most adults don’t understand the hair.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Everclear.”
“Huh?”
“Everclear’s lead singer has this hair.”
“That’s very helpful in a baby-sitter,” Adam grumbled.
Bob’s cheeks crimsoned.
“Hey! I’m qualified to baby-sit. I took the Red Cross course in CPR and lifesaving. Last summer, I was a camp counselor at the Geneva YMCA camp. And since I’m out of school for this summer and most of the kids ’round here work on their family farms, I might be your best bet. Besides—” and here Bob grinned “—my mom leaves me with Pam all the time and I haven’t lost her yet.”
“Adam is very grateful,” Stacy said. “He doesn’t have any other alternatives. I have to take care of Marion.”
“I heard she got injured. How are you doing, Mrs. Brandweis?”
“Pretty poorly,” Marion said, sighing. “They’ve got me on painkillers.”
“Aspirin,” Stacy pointed out.
“Still.”
“How come you fell off the trellis of the Peterson house?”
“Accident.”
“And while we’re at it, how come you and my dad got into it?” Bob asked, sticking his bleached head into the car.
“Nothing that would concern you,” Adam said.
“Okay, okay, forget I asked. But the next time an adult asks me what’s going down, I’ll remember that line. ‘Nothing that would concern you.’ Now, you want me to baby-sit your kid or not?”
Adam looked over at Stacy.
Please, his gray eyes begged.
Nothing doing, she said with the slightest shake of her head.
“All right, you’re hired,” Adam said reluctantly. “But if there’s any problems—”
“No worries, man,” Bob said and walked back into the house.
“He’ll be fine,” Stacy said. “I baby-sat him when he was a baby. Didn’t you baby-sit him too, Marion?”
But Marion’s attention had already returned to the most pressing topic—Stacy’s chores.
“—and you’ll need to make the beds, feed the dog, take Sammy to his dentist appointment at three—”
Adam drove the two women to the Brandweis house.
“Marion, can you get into the house on your own?”
Marion looked from Adam to Stacy to Adam again.
“I’m not going to jump her,” Adam said firmly.
“Well, I never!” Marion cried, and with a great suffering moan, slid out of the car.
“Adam, I know what you’re going to say.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re going to say that we can still be together in secret.”
“No, I—”
“And that we just have to be more discreet.”
“No, that’s not what—”
“And that there’s no reason why we shouldn’t make love when we want up until you leave.”
“That’s not it at all.”
“And that—”
“Would you let me talk?” Adam demanded. “I’m not from Deerhorn, so you don’t know what I’m going to say next.”
“Okay,” Stacy said, chastened. “Sorry. Why don’t you tell me?”
“I was going to agree with you,” Adam said. “Agree with you completely.”
“You were?” she asked—slightly, just so slightly, disappointed.
“Yeah,” he said. “You know, I’ve never given my brain a chance to overrule my body on the question of whether it’s all right to make love when you’re not committed to someone.”
“And now you have?” she asked—barely, ever so barely—surprised and shaken.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Adam said.
“Really?” she asked, regaining some of her equilibrium.
“Yeah. My body’s pretty adamant about what it wants. I want you. I want you so much that if it were up to me, we’d be sneaking off right now to that little piece of heaven on the second floor of your house.”
“Really?” Oddly pleased, yet ready to scold if it got any further than a wish.
“Absolutely. I won’t make any bones about that. But I can understand where you’re coming from and respect you enough to honor your decision.”
He held out his hand.
She shook.
“Friends?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Just friends,” she agreed.
She slid out of the car and slammed the passenger door.
He couldn’t see that tears had started to well up in Stacy’s eyes.
He started the engine, backed out of the drive and sped down Oak Street.
It was several minutes before she composed herself and walked up to the split-level house to give her nephews their hugs and take phone calls for the Brandweis Plumbing Service & Supply Company.
Chapter Sixteen
That night, most Deerhorn residents breathed a wistful sigh of relief as they washed up after work or spooned out mac and cheese at their kitchen tables. Sure, it would be nice if Stacy found a husband—she was so good with dogs, children and plants that she would make any man a wonderful wife and a great mother to his children. In fact, many Deerhorn men absently dried their hands as they recalled how they would have asked her out on a date were it not for her father being sick and now—here they’d surprise their wives with a kiss—it had turned out for the best, of course, but it was still too bad about Stacy.
Taking up with that man! Although many felt grateful for his work on the school—if it ever got built!—they nonetheless were of one mind: he had taken advantage of a lonely woman who had temporarily lost her senses. It must have been the grief of losing her father. It must have been that milestone birthday in the spring—twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? Thirty? It must be how life was passing her by. And no one was without sympathy.
But everyone agreed that a woman alone was no match for a handsome man like Adam. The few men who cautiously opined that Stacey had done the asking were quick to shut their mouths when confronted with their wives’ stony faces.
Karen liked her new baby-sitter, and in fact, was so excited to go to Pam’s house to play that she seemed not to care about the romantic struggles of the adults around her—she waited until after dinner and asked if she could play at Stacy’s the next day.
“She’s not your baby-sitter anymore.”
“Not at all?”
“No,” Adam said uncomfortably.
“Oh, good,” Karen said, spooning up the last of her ice cream. “That means she can be my morn.”
Adam swallowed. Hard.
“What do you mean?”
“She always said she couldn’t be my mom because she was my baby-sitter. But now that means she could be my mom…if she wanted, that is.”
“You don’t need a mom, you’ve got me.”
“Daddy, I really want a mom,” she replied, as if he were the silliest, most doddering daddy of all not to know how important a mom could be. “I want Stacy to be my mom. And, Dad, I don’t want to go to Vegas.”
“But we have to go.”
“I want to stay in Deerhorn.”
“Nobody lives in Deerhorn. Well, the entire world population minus 348 doesn’t live in Deerhorn.”
Karen scrunched up her nose, losing all that sunshine on her face quicker than a summer storm taking over the afternoon.
“Karen, we can’t stay in Deerhorn. Daddy’s work takes him all over the world.”
But she was already upstairs, and when he found the bedroom empty he knew just where to look. He took his place by the doorjamb but then felt an unseen, barely imagined, hand direct him to the bed, an unseen hand that didn’t get regular manicures but was small and slim and pink. It was as if Stacy were telling him that this kind of discussion didn’t take place at a distance.
“Pumpkin, we’ll make new friends in Vegas,” he said, crawling under the bed beside her. Mugs groaned as he tried to follow.
“I don’t want new friends. I want old friends. And I want a mom. She said she’d be my mom if she wasn’t my baby-sitter.”
“She did?”
“Well, not exactly—but I know that’s what she meant.”
The phone rang.
“Maybe that’s her!” Karen exclaimed.
Man, daughter and dog scrambled for the study—although Mugs was definitely the slowest.
“Hello,” Adam said, picking up the phone and winking at Karen.
“Adam, it’s Lasser.”
“Oh, hi.”
Karen stuck out her tongue.
“Vegas. Now.”
“J.P., this is a surprise.”
“Yeah, well, not a good one for me. Your buddy Ryan’s new firm approached the Vegas people with an offer to start by the weekend. I’ve got to outbid them. I’ll send the jet for you and we can assemble the crew here in Chicago and be in Vegas by tomorrow evening with a counterproposal.”
One Sexy Daddy Page 13
