by Lisa Gregory
The Fourth of July holiday came, and the family went into town for the celebration. Sarah had spent all the day before cooking in preparation for the picnic, so that the morning of the Fourth all she had to do was pack the food baskets and dress.
She put on a new pink and white striped cotton dress that she had made especially for today. She wanted to look her best. Maybe if she looked pretty enough, Luke would want her again.
Even though Luke had returned to her bed two weeks ago, he still had not touched her. Sometimes Sarah awoke to find their arms and legs tangled around each other, and she hoped that Luke would awaken wanting her, as he had so many times in the past. She would keep her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, but when Luke awoke, he slipped out from her embrace and got out of bed.
However much Luke might say he still loved her, he obviously didn't desire her anymore.
She ached to know why, but she couldn't ask him. She was shy around him now. It would be too humiliating to say, "Why don't you want me anymore? What's the matter with me?"
How could desire die that quickly, that suddenly? Did the thought of the stillbirth repel Luke? Or was it that she was now unattractive? Pregnancy had thickened her waist and dulled her hair, but she had thought the signs of pregnancy were gone. Her figure was slim again, and her skin had lost the slightly muddy look; her hair had regained its luster.
Sarah leaned closer to her mirror, peering at her face up close. She always wore a bonnet outside to protect her skin, but even so the weather had worked on it. There were freckles across her nose, and her skin was dry. Tiny lines had formed around her eyes, and there were even the beginnings of creases on her forehead. She was too tanned. This land was not kind to a woman.
She thought of Tessa Jackson. She looked cheap, but she was also white and soft, her breasts and hips lush, her waist cinched in. Sarah considered her own uncorseted body. Her waist was wider than fashion indicated, and her hips were narrow. Her breasts weren't as full as Tessa's. Was she too thin? Sarah wondered what Luke had thought when he had seen Tessa that day. He hated Tessa for what she had done to him, but had he felt desire for her despite that? Had he found her more feminine than the spare, unornamented farm woman who was his wife?
Sarah shivered. She didn't think she could bear it if Luke never wanted her again. Some women would be happy to have their husbands leave them alone in bed, Sarah knew. But she was not one of those. She had enjoyed her husband's carnal knowledge of her body. No, more than enjoyed—' she needed it, as she needed air, water, and food. Last night she had awakened with a dark throbbing between her legs. She had been dreaming of Luke's lovemaking, and her face had been drenched in sweat, her loins warm and heavy with passion. She had buried her face in her pillow, her teeth clenching on the pillowcase, remembering Luke's hands on her, his mouth, his thick shaft buried within her Little pulses had broken in her, pale reminders of the waves that had drenched her whenever he took her It had given her no surcease, but left only a sweet ache and a desire for more.
Sarah pulled her hair up on top of her head in the soft pompadour style that she knew Luke liked best. Around her neck, she fastened the cameo that he had given her last Christmas. She dabbed perfume at her temples and neck.She hesitated, then unbuttoned the top button of her dress and slipped a touch of perfume into the hollow between her breasts. She started to re fasten the button, then stopped. It wasn't lewd this way, really, but if Luke looked down at her, he could see the shadowy tops of her breasts. She bit her lips and pinched her cheeks to bring color to them.
She looked in the mirror one last time, then went downstairs to join her family.
They were waiting for her in the kitchen. The table was loaded down with food baskets and jugs of water and lemonade. Luke wore a light summer suit and a white shirt with a tiny blue stripe through it and a stiff white collar and cuffs. He looked so good it made her throat close up. She never saw the celluloid collar and cuffs without thinking of Luke taking them off: unbuttoning the collar and laying it down atop his tall chest of drawers, unsnapping the cuff links and sliding them through the slits in the cloth, and placing both cuffs and links beside the collar. Just the thought of that routine sent a piercing shaft of desire through her viscera. She was starved for him, she thought, and knew it was something a truly good woman wouldn't have felt, much less admitted. But goodness had little hold on her when it came to Luke.Luke stood up when Sarah entered the room, and his eyes ran down her involuntarily. When he looked back up at her face, Sarah thought she saw the familiar blue gleam of hunger there.
"Oh, Mama, you pretty!" Emily clapped her hands with pleasure. Emily wore a white dress ruffled with eyelet embroidery and decorated with pink ribbons, and she reminded Sarah of some sugary concoction atop a cake. By the end of the day, though, the ruffles would doubtless be dragging and the dress liberally sprinkled with dust, mud, and food.
Beside Emily, Cal smiled. His pale eyes sparkled with excitement. He wore a pair of trousers and a shirt that Sarah had made him. It warmed her to see him clean and happy.
Sarah's beauty struck Luke like a blow to the gut. She was fresh and vibrant, her face alive with color and her hazel eyes bright. Her lips were red; it made him think of the way they looked when he kissed her.
He had gone through hell the last two weeks, sleeping with Sarah without making love to her. He didn't know how much more of this torture he could take. He lay awake every night, looking at the soft curves of her body beneath the sheet, thinking of her without sheet, without gown, without anything between her flesh and his hands. He imagined waking her with his kisses. He imagined touching her. He imagined sinking into her and feeling her molten heat close around the throbbing core of his desire. The blood had pooled between his legs, heavy, pulsing, demanding its animal release. Luke wasn't sure how he had managed not to roll on top of Sarah and take her in pure, instinctive lust.
But each time his love for Sarah had conquered his hunger. He awoke in the mornings feeling as if he hadn't slept. His face had become drawn, the lines biting in deeply beside his mouth and eyes, and there were blue smudges like bruises beneath his eyes. He feared each night when he went to bed that this time he wouldn't be able to protect her from himself.
They walked out to the wagon. Luke watched the gentle sway of Sarah's hips beneath her dress. He helped her up into the wagon, very aware of the bare flesh of her arm beneath his hand and of the flash of stockinged leg that was exposed as she climbed up into the high seat. Luke sat down beside her on the seat. He glanced down at Sarah, The top button of her dress was undone. He could see little but shadows, but just the thought of the soft swell of her breasts beneath the dress was enough to set his pulse skittering. His hands clenched around the reins, and he snapped them across the mules' backs with more force than usual. This was going to be a hellish day, Luke wondered how he was going to get through it.
They drove into town to Julia's house. Julia and her children were waiting for them on the porch, a basket of food beside them.
Julia had thought a hundred times about not going to the celebration. She didn't want to sec James in a social situation. It was bad enough being with him at the office, remembering their kiss and pretending not to, trying to avoid the touch of his hand when she handed him a piece of paper or a medical instrument. But to have to see him in public—to watch him dance with other women and to have others see her looking at him with her heart in her eyes— would be almost unbearable.
She didn't want to go. But she couldn't disappoint the children; they had their hearts set on seeing the parade and the fireworks. Besides, Sarah and Luke would plague her about why she didn't want to go, and she couldn't tell them the real reason.
So she forced herself to smile when Luke and Sarah arrived and climbed into the wagon with them. They drove to the town park, where they unloaded their baskets and found a long, shaded table. Soon Jennifer and Stu and their family joined them, and after that, the large Crowley clan claimed the table next to them. There wa
s a great deal of friendly chatter and laughter as the families settled in. The women set up the food while the children ran off to play, and the men grouped together to talk. Julia's nerves relaxed a little. She hadn't even seen James or his mother. Perhaps the whole day would pass without her seeing him, and she would find that she had had nothing to fear.
By the time the women had finished unloading the baskets, the tables were jammed with food. There were platters of fried chicken and ham and bowls of potato salad and coleslaw, as well as thick baked beans, still warm from Jennifer's oven, and a variety of cobblers and pies for dessert. In addition, there were jugs of cold iced tea, lemonade, and water, and side dishes of sliced tomatoes, onions, hot peppers, pickles, and relishes. At either end of the table were plates piled high with thickly sliced bread, squares of cornbread, and round dinner rolls. It looked like enough to feed an army, Julia thought, but when the menfolk and children returned to the tables, they made a sizable dent in the wealth of food.
After they ate, the women cleaned off the tables, stuffing the remainder of the food back into the baskets for supper later that evening. The children went to play again, but the adults were content to sit beneath the shade in the fierce heat and talk quietly or doze. Julia sat on one of the benches at the table, her elbow on the table and her chin propped on her hand. Mary Etta Crowley was explaining a quilting pattern to Jennifer and Sarah, and her voice was soothing. The insects droned in the somnolent heat. Julia's eyelids drifted lower.
"Hello, ladies."
Julia's eyes popped open. James Banks. She looked up and saw him standing a few feet away from their table. He had just tipped his hat to them and was returning it to his head. He wore a cream-colored linen summer suit, and he had taken off his jacket in the heat and carried it slung over one shoulder. His shirt was pastel striped, and he wore no tie. The top button of his shirt was unfastened, and sweat glistened in the hollow of his throat.
"Good afternoon."
"Dr. Jim."
"Doctor." The other women answered him. Julia said nothing. All she could think was how good he looked. She had a wicked desire to touch her tongue to that shallow indentation below his throat.
James looked directly at her. Julia felt heat rising up her throat and hoped it didn't show in her face. "Good afternoon. Dr. Banks."
"How is your mother?" Jennifer asked.
He turned his head toward Jennifer and smiled. "Fine, thank you. She's here today, holding court over on the west side of the park." He motioned in the direction of the picnic table where Anthea sat.
"I'll have to run over to see her later."
Vance and Cal came racing up to the table. Their shirt-tails were out, and Cal had a long streak of mud across one trouser leg, but their faces were so alive with excitement that neither Julia nor Sarah could bring herself to admonish them. "The parade's started! It's coming!"
They darted off, with Bonnie and Emily running after them. Both Julia and Sarah hurried after the girls, afraid they would get lost in the crowd. They reached the street just as the parade came into sight. Luke joined them and lifted Emily onto his shoulders. Julia picked Bonnie up, but she still could not see well.
"I wanna go higher," the three-year-old complained.
"But sweetheart, this is as high as I can lift you."
"Here, let me." Julia turned. James was standing behind her. He held out his hands, and Bonnie went unhesitatingly into them. He placed her on his shoulders. She squealed with delight at being so high, able to see everything.
"Thank you." Julia's breath came and went unevenly. James was so close to her that she could smell the scent of his shaving soap. She tried to keep her eyes on the parade, but she couldn't stop herself from glancing back to James again and again. She enjoyed looking at his clean profile, at the white line of the collar as it cut across his neck and the way his hair curled over the edge of the collar in back. Some devil inside her urged her to reach out and slide her fingernails into those curls. She remembered the thick springiness of his hair.
James turned his head and Julia glanced away, afraid he would read her thoughts in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was for James to know how easily she would fall into his bed again. All he had to do was crook his finger, and she would go to him. It was sinful—and foolish. His lovemaking could bring her only shame and pain. She was no more the kind of woman James Banks could marry than she had been eleven years ago. He would want nothing from her but a brief, easy affair. A mistress. She didn't want to be that, not even for James. But she was terrified that she wouldn't be able to resist if he should ask her.
Julia was glad that James didn't linger with them after the parade was over, but wandered off to talk to other people. After the parade, there were speeches from the mayor and the Democratic candidate (the only candidate, since no one ever ran on the Republican ticket opposite him) for the state seat from their area, followed by the winner of the high school oratory contest last school year. The program ended with a half hour of patriotic songs sung by the combined choirs of the First Baptist and Main St. Methodist Churches.
Julia and Sarah remained at their table, watching the program from a distance. Neither of them had any interest in the speeches. It was more important to get Bonnie and Emily down for their naps on folded quilts beneath the tree. While the girls slept, Julia and Sarah chatted in low voices. They talked about the crops and Julia's job and their children, but neither of them spoke of what was uppermost in their minds.
They ate supper late, a casual meal of leftovers from the extensive lunch. Dusk fell, and the stifling heat dropped. The night insects began to whir, and the frogs started up over by the pond. The new gas lights around the park came on. Then the fireworks display lit up the sky with colors, and everyone who watched let out gasps of admiration.
All too soon it was over, except for boys setting off an occasional firecracker. Many of the families started toward home. Julia saw James leave with Anthea and thought with relief that he would not be there for the dance. She wouldn't have to see him with some other woman in his arms, circling around the floor.
The dance floor was a raised wooden platform built out from the bandstand, and all around it wires were strung from the corner posts, with brightly colored paper lanterns hanging on the wires. The candles inside the paper lanterns were lit, and the musicians took their place on the stage. They tuned their instruments as people began to gather on stage from all around the park. Luke turned toward Sarah, his eyes questioning. Julia could see the energy and excitement coursing in him, ready to burst its bounds in dancing. Julia looked at Sarah. There was an answering electricity in her, too. Sarah held out her hand, and Luke took it, and they walked to the platform. Julia thought they would have liked to run.
The first tune the band played was fast. Luke and Sarah joined a set of couples in the Texas Star. It was followed by a Virginia reel. But the next song was a waltz, and Luke pulled Sarah into his arms. They were only inches apart, and though their bodies didn't touch, Sarah could feel the heat emanating from Luke and see the drops of perspiration dotting his upper lip and forehead. His hand burned against the small of her back. His other hand curled around hers; she could feel every callus, every dip and curve. Sarah's breath was uneven, and she knew it wasn't entirely due to the fast-paced dances they had just finished.
Luke looked down at Sarah. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Some of the tension inside him had been released as they whipped through the fast steps of the dances, but it hadn't burned off nearly enough steam. He felt as soaring and fiery, as explosive as the fireworks that had shot up earlier. He'd had a drink down by the pond with Jake Crowley and Stu Harper, but it hadn't really relaxed him, only unsnapped a few of the leashes he kept in control.
Sarah was beautiful. He wanted her. He looked at her lips. He knew those lips: each line and curve, the fullness, the softness, the taste. He wanted to taste her again, to kiss her right here on the dance floor He wanted to eat her up. He thought of the first time
they had danced together, it had been at a housewarming party at the Crowleys. He had drunk too much that time, and when they reached home, he had danced Sarah around the yard in the fierce white moonlight. That night they had made love for the first time. The memory didn't help the state of his nerves.
He looked at Sarah's smooth white brow, the twin curves of her dark eyebrows, the firm line of cheek and jaw. He knew her face more intimately than he knew his own. He'd spent almost four years memorizing it. Yet it was always fresh and beautiful to him. His eyes moved lower, to the shadowy triangle of flesh revealed by the open neck of Sarah's dress. A sheen of moisture glistened on her chest.
He thought of how her skin grew slick and damp when they made love. She was beautiful naked and gleaming, his sweat mingling with hers on her skin.
The scent of perfume rose from her, warmed by her body. It was dizzying, intoxicating. When they danced close to the lights, he could glimpse the soft, trembling tops of her breasts. He thought of them in his hands, pure white against his browned skin, the essence of softness. He wanted to feel their heaviness, to trace the pink brown circles of her nipples and watch them tighten for him. God, he was growing hard just thinking about it*
Once he had thought it would be enough to be married to Sarah. Then he had thought it would be enough to make love to her, but finally he had realized that he had to have l her love as well. All of her—body, mind, soul, heart—that was the only thing that could really satisfy him. He had learned that once, and he was rediscovering it more and more painfully every day. No part of Sarah was enough. He had to have her all. And he couldn't.
Sarah glanced up at her husband. Luke's eyes glittered even in the dim light. He wanted her. She could feel it in the heat of his hand and see it in the fierce glow of his eyes. She knew the stamp of desire on Luke's face, and it was there now. Sarah smiled, unaware of the seductive triumph in the curve of her lips. But she heard the quick intake of Luke's breath, and it sent a fire licking through her abdomen.
