Yes, I Do

by Gwynne Forster

  Netta stamped her feet, whirled and strode through the crowd that had gathered to witness the scene. He took Deanna’s arm. “I’d give anything if I could have spared you this—”

  “Humiliation,” she said. “Let’s go. At least she’s paid all of her bills, and I no longer have any reason to contact her.”

  “You look beautiful, and that was enough to upset that woman.” He took out his cell phone and called for a cab. “I learned a lot during that fracas.” A taxi arrived immediately, and they headed back to the airport. “Now, to get an early flight,” he said in a casual tone, but she knew him well enough now to know that the incident at Netta’s house had distressed him. “Wait here while I see what we can get,” he told her in the airport.

  She thought she would burst from having to control her anger. “I’ll fix that woman. She’ll have to eat her lies, because I’m going to put an ad in The Woodmore Times stating that I decorated her house along with the others I’ve done.”

  Justin walked back to her. “We have an hour and a half wait. I thought it would be worse.” He patted her knee. “Don’t let it bother you. There’s a reason why she’s building a house like that for herself when she already has a big one.”

  How does he know she has another house and that it’s a big one, and why was she so proprietary with him? She told herself not to think such things. But what was she to think? He said he didn’t want her with another man, but he didn’t commit to her. She was taking nothing for granted. She loved him, but he hadn’t told how he felt about her, so she had to keep how she felt to herself. But when he'd made love to her the previous night, she’d wanted to yell at the top of her lungs how much she loved him. Never will I be captive to my feelings, she said to herself and prayed she could keep that vow.

  “You’re withdrawn, Deanna, and if you’ll tell me what I did to bring this about, I’ll try to set things straight.”

  “That woman behaved as if she’d been your constant companion for years. I was mortified.”

  “You can’t be serious. Are you suggesting that there is or ever has been anything whatever between me and Netta Cross?”

  Watch it, girl. “No. I am not suggesting that. I’m just…just miserable is all.”

  “Deanna, if she hadn’t opened her door, I wouldn’t have known who she was. In fact, I didn’t address her until I was certain as to who she was. Can you imagine me spending any time in the company of such a shrew? Give me credit for better taste.”

  “I’m not accusing you, Justin. I’m… Oh, I don’t know. I wish I’d never seen her.”

  At the flight call, he handed her her ticket, put an arm around her waist and headed for the gate. They seated themselves, and she rested her head on his shoulder, relishing the comfort of his nearness.

  “That’s right, you’re not comfortable flying.” He got up, walked toward the back of the plane and returned. “I thought I’d get you a blanket. It’s very chilly in here. He removed his jacket and put it around her shoulders.”

  “Won’t you be cold?”

  “I don’t mind for myself, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  She removed the jacket and snuggled into his arms. “I don’t want you to be cold, Justin.”

  He put the jacket around her shoulders and brought her back into his arms. “I want you to be comfortable. I need to take care of you, and if that means I’m cold, I don’t mind it.”

  She kissed his chin. “I need to look after you, too.” What she didn’t say that came to her mind was that instead, Lizzie Palmer had the job of looking after him. His arms tightened around her, and she told herself that he said positive things about their relationship first to Netta and now to her, and that he was not a man to take a serious step unless he weighed every angle. Besides, he’s only known you six months.

  When they reached the exit in the Woodmore airport, rain came down in torrents. “Wait here while I get the car.”

  “But it isn’t far,” she said. “I’ll go with you, and you won’t have to circle the airport to get back here and circle it again to get out.”

  “What did I tell you right after we boarded the plane? If I didn’t want you to get cold, why would I let you get drenched in order to save me ten minutes?” He grasped both of her shoulders. “It’s time you and I got on the same page.”

  Where was this headed, she wondered, but she wouldn’t question him about it. He’d said he learned a lot during their five-minute visit to Netta Cross’s house. She wished he’d let her in on it. She handed him her umbrella.

  “I stand corrected, sir.” She added the sir to lessen the gravity of the moment.

  The rain had tapered off by the time they reached her house. “Look at that,” he said. “Too bad. I love the crepe myrtles, and when the flowers begin to drop, I know cold weather is on the way. Do you like them? I’m planning to put some around the front of my house and at the edge of the woods.”

  “Yes. I love them, and I set out a pair in my front garden, but I put them out too early and they died.”

  “You can enjoy mine,” he said without looking at her.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “Yes, but only for a short while. I want to discuss something with you.”

  “In that case, why don’t I make us a crab salad, slice a tomato, toast some bread and open a bottle of beer? We can have some blueberry blintzes for dessert. I’ll heat them in the microwave oven.”

  “If you can do all that while wearing that lovely dress, I’d say it’s a good idea.”

  She removed her hat and gloves, combed her hair, added more crabmeat to the salad she made the night before. She remembered the leftover peas and added those along with chopped scallion, peeled and sliced a couple of tomatoes, put the crab salad on red leaf lettuce along with the tomatoes. She glanced up and saw Justin leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Your movements are so gracious. Let’s eat in here. I’ll set the table.”

  They’d nearly finished eating, and hadn’t discussed anything in particular, so she decided to cut to the chase. “What did you want us to discuss? It’s driving me nuts waiting.”

  He leaned back and looked at her. “Do you trust me enough to spend a weekend at my place on Nags Head with me? Just the two of us?” He seemed to hold his breath.

  “Of course I do. I didn’t know you had a place other than your house on Butler Street. Sounds like a lovely idea. When did you have in mind?”

  “This coming weekend.”

  “Oh. Okay. I suppose it will be cooler there?”

  “Yes. And I have a boat over there. So prepare for that. I’ll look forward to our being there. We’ll have a wonderful time.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  Chapter 6

  Deanna hadn’t spoken with her stepsister in almost six months, not since Jenny, as Jennyse was called, went on a religious retreat to the Ivory Coast in West Africa. They had corresponded by mail, but she hadn’t expected Jenny back until mid-October.

  “Jenny, darling, this is such a wonderful surprise. Is everything all right? Let’s meet for coffee or something and talk.”

  “I’ve got so much to tell you. What about Friday evening? It’ll take me a couple of days to open up my place, buy some food and get settled. It’s as if I’ve forgotten how to negotiate life in a developed country. Oh, Deanna, I met a man, and he’s wonderful.”

  “Whoa! Is he African, a preacher, an American or what?”

  “This gorgeous brother was born in St. Louis, Missouri, and if I’m still crazy about him three months from now, I’ll be headed for St. Louis. He is definitely not a preacher.”

  “I wish we could meet Friday evening, but I’m…uh, going away for the weekend.”

  “Tell me more, sis. You going solo? Lord, I sure hope not.”

  “I’ll be over on the Outer Banks with Justin McCall.”

  “The McCall? You’re not serious. What’s going on since I left here?”

  “Simple. I fell
in love with him.”

  In her mind’s eye, she saw Jenny’s hands lock on her hip bones as she gazed toward the heavens. “Girl, you get outta here! You’re going to spend a weekend with him? Does he know that premarital hanky-panky is against your morals?”

  “Yeah. I’ve impressed that upon him each time he’s made love with me.”

  She imagined that Jenny’s neighbors heard her whoop. “I wasn’t gone but six months, and look what we have. What else is new?”

  “I’ve formed my own company, and I’m doing good, as they say.”

  “Congratulations. I always thought you were too good for Burton’s. That store didn’t even promote you. Let’s get together Monday evening…unless you’ll be too tired.”

  “Mind how you speak to your elder. Let’s meet at Pinky’s for dinner..say six-thirty.”

  “I’ll be there. Make the most of your weekend. Love ya.”

  “Love you, too, sis.”

  Deanna hung up, thumbed through her mail, saw a letter from a hotel chain and tossed it aside along with other advertisements. She’d glance at them later. Occasionally, such letters announced a private sale, which she preferred to big public sales. She laid out the clothes she’d take with her to Nags Head on the Outer Banks, finished her sketches for Lougenia’s living and dining rooms and placed the orders with her suppliers. Deanna knew the woman would enjoy her retirement in that beautiful home the Motleys bought for her, because Deanna had furnished it with every convenience available for an older person.

  Friday morning finally arrived, and Deanna awoke at the crack of dawn. She had been able to sleep only intermittently. Justin had said that he’d be at her place at nine o’clock. What was she to do with herself for the next three hours? A shower took ten minutes, and fifteen minutes later, she was ready to leave the house.

  Slow down, girl. You may be heading for a disappointment. “I don’t believe that,” she said aloud, brought her weekend bag down the stairs and put it in the foyer. “I could make some biscuits. No, I’d better make popovers. There isn’t much of a chance that I could ruin those.” She started to mix the batter and stopped. “Maybe I should just fix us some breakfast.”

  She telephoned him. “Tell Mrs. Palmer to skip the breakfast. I’ll feed you this morning.” She wondered what he found so amusing that he laughed until he could barely catch his breath.

  “Listen, honey. I was counting on that. I gave Lizzie the rest of the weekend off. If you don’t feel like cooking, we can stop at the IHOP or some place like that.”

  “Hmm. Whenever you make plans for me, hon, it’s best to let me in on them. I didn’t think about breakfast until a minute ago. Try to get here before nine.”

  “As anxious as I am to start this day, you don’t have to ask twice. Give me thirty minutes.”

  She put some fresh sage sausage in the frying pan, turned the waffle iron on and put the water on to boil. “If he doesn’t like fresh pineapple, he can have grapefruit juice. That’s all I have.” She set the kitchen table, mixed the waffle batter and looked at the clock. Three minutes to go. She started the coffee to dripping, poured batter into the waffle iron and headed for the front door. He rang as she reached for the doorknob.

  “We’ve got this thing synchronized to perfection,” he said, lifting her and swinging her around.

  She kissed him on the mouth and pulled away. “Wash your hands and let’s eat. If we start the heavy stuff, who knows when we’ll leave here.”

  “Gotcha,” he said and headed for the powder room.

  “This is wonderful,” he said of the food. “And this coffee is great.”

  “I use the best dark-roast Columbia coffee that I can get. Anybody can measure water and ground coffee.”

  He savored a sip. “That’s what you think. I once had a cook whose coffee was so thin you could read a newspaper beneath a glass full of it.”

  “Methinks you’re fibbing.”

  “Not by much.” He put the dishes in the dishwasher, washed the frying pan and turned out the kitchen lights. “Let’s go, baby. We’ve got a three-and-a-half hour drive ahead of us, provided I don’t run into heavy traffic. Say, bring some of your jazz CDs.”

  “I’m way ahead of you,” she said and closed and locked the door. As they walked to his car, she said a silent prayer. When she returned to her house, she’d either be way up or way down.

  He made the trip in three hours and seventeen minutes. “That’s because we didn’t stop,” he said, “and you must be exhausted.”

  She assured him that she wasn’t, got out of the car and looked around. “Gosh, you can see water everywhere.”

  “From every window in the house. That’s my granddad’s place on that corner, and of the property in between our houses, mine stops where that tennis court begins.”

  “Does he still play tennis?”

  “You bet. Every day he’s here. My boat’s docked on the other side. Let’s go inside.”

  She walked through the rooms, airy and spacious, but she knew that her favorite place there would probably be the sun-filled plant solarium, a large room off the dining room. “This is exquisite,” she told him when he joined her. “How do you take care of it when you’re in Woodmore most of the time?”

  “This was the breakfast room, but I prefer to eat in the kitchen or, if I have guests, in the dining room. I love plants and flowers, so I turned this room into a solarium and put in a watering system for when I’m away. Come, and I’ll show you your room. I thought we’d have a cookout for dinner and take the boat out tomorrow morning. We can have turkey sandwiches and leek soup for lunch, or if you don’t want—”

  She stopped him. “I eat everything except brains and chitterlings, so I’ll enjoy whatever else you’ve got. Please don’t think I have to eat gourmet food. I like it when I get it, but I definitely was not raised on it. Collards and black-eyed peas can make me very happy.”

  “I'll tell Lizzie that, but she won’t cook it.”

  “Then, I’ll cook you some,” she said, “but I’ll need a couple of smoked pig knuckles.”

  “You’re in business. I’ll dock the boat at Kitty Hawk tomorrow, and we’ll get some. I love simple food.” His gaze locked on her, and she saw the heat begin to rise.

  “Show me the rest of the house,” she said quickly, because she didn’t want their weekend to begin with lovemaking.

  “Later. Right now, I’d better feed you.”

  “You didn’t make this soup,” she said. “Not that you couldn’t. It’s wonderful.”

  “Lizzie made it. I’ll clean the kitchen while you unpack.” A gasp escaped her when she walked into her room. White walls, furniture, curtains and carpet, interrupted only by the lavender spread of silk taffeta. The window, as wide as the large room, revealed the Atlantic Ocean with its dancing waves as far as she could see.

  She whirled around, saw him slouched against the doorjamb looking at her. And ran to him. “Hold me, Justin. Just hold me. This is…it’s so beautiful, so special that it’s overwhelming.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. It’s…idyllic.” He held her tighter. “It’s wonderful, but I don’t see how you can bear to be here alone.”

  “That’s why I’m so seldom here unless Granddad’s at his place. I never realized what it meant to be alone until I met you. I liked my company, and I enjoyed listening to music, reading and working, and that was enough. Yes, there was someone, but she wanted me to dance to her tune without regard for what I wanted and needed, so after a time, I said goodbye. When I saw you, something happened to me.” He kissed her forehead. “At that moment, you were so unhappy, and you needed me in a way that no one else had. When you looked at me, I knew you felt what I felt, and I had no intention of letting you get away from me. You tried, but even if I hadn’t seen you at that convention, I knew where to find you, and I meant to see if the feeling was real.”

  “I did like you on sight, Justin, but I thought you were a player with women swarming all ov
er you, so I decided you were not for me. I watched you at the convention, and you didn’t seem that way at all.” She rubbed his nose. “But you have a way with words, and you have a short fuse, too.”

  “Maybe, but I’m always able to control my temper, so I’m never tempted to embarrass myself.”

  She kissed his jaw and then rested her head against his shoulder. “That’s my standard, too, and I may live up to it if I don’t meet too many like Netta Cross.”

  “She has no place in our life, Deanna. I need to get the marine forecast, so I’ll know which side of the house to put the outdoor grill. It’s sometimes very windy.”

  He had to get away from her in that setting. It hadn’t occurred to him that being alone with her in his house meant having to protect her from his ravenous libido. He went to his room, grabbed a pair of bathing trunks and headed for the sound; the Atlantic would be too cold for swimming, especially so late in the day. Thinking that she might want to swim, he went back to Deanna’s room and knocked on the door.

  “I’m going for a swim in the sound,” he told her. “The water will be rather chilly, so I suggest you swim midday. But if you want to swim now, I’ll wait for you.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll wait till tomorrow. Please don’t stay too long.”

  The hell with it. He strode into the room, lifted her and locked her to his body. “Kiss me. Make me know that you care for me.”

  She sucked his tongue into her mouth, savored it and suddenly locked her legs around his hips. He bulged against her.

  “That wasn’t my intention, baby, but I wanted you so badly. Look, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He raced down the stairs and out the side door to the sound. To his disgust, the cold water did nothing for the wild desire that had come upon him. “Dammit, I’ll deal with it,” he said to himself and released another expletive as he headed back to the house.

  After a shower and a change of clothing, he felt better and was able to laugh at himself. “If I were a teenager, my nonsense would be more acceptable.” He checked the marine forecast and set up the grill on the side of the house facing the Atlantic.