Yes, I Do

by Gwynne Forster

  Grace took charge. “I did your chart, and then I did his two days later. There ain’t no mistake. None. And if y’all don’t do something about it, you’re cheating yourselves.”

  “Aunt Grace, you’ve gone too far.”

  “But you said she’s always right.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  Grace aligned the taxi with the curb, and Susan got out. She’d tell her aunt Grace a few things she wouldn’t soon forget. That man didn’t need any help getting a woman.

  August let his head loll against the back of the cab. It had been an interesting trip. Remarkable. Susan Andrews spiked his blood. “I think she’s upset, Grace.”

  “Sure she is. Trouble is, she knows I tell the truth, and she doesn’t want to accept it. She never learned how to play games with boys when she was a teenager, and she doesn’t understand courtship; that’s why she hates it.”

  August laughed out loud.

  “What’s funny? Are you laughing at my Susan?”

  “No indeed. I’m fascinated. The more you talk about her, the more certain I am that I want her telephone number. Don’t worry. I won’t court her.” Grace gave him her niece’s numbers at home and the office. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I don’t doubt that I’ll need it.”

  Susan knew she might be playing into her aunt’s hand, but she decided to risk it, nonetheless. She dialed her home phone number. “Aunt Grace, you’re pushing August Jackson on me. What do you know about him? He could be a criminal.”

  “Just what I see on the chart, honey.”

  Susan hooked the telephone between her chin and her shoulder and applied more nail builder to her big toenail. Not for anything would she admit being excited and anxious to know more about him. “That’s all?”

  “Well, the men he works with treat him like he’s a big shot, but he acts like a regular fellow. And he sure has got nice manners. I’m driving him down tomorrow morning, so I’ll pick you up at the usual time.”

  Susan knew from that click of the receiver that if she called a dozen times, Grace wouldn’t answer the phone. Monday morning, when she stepped into the taxi at seven forty-five, she had to admit that she wasn’t there because she didn’t want to disappoint Grace, but because she hadn’t been able to get August out of her thoughts.

  Grace got right to the point. “The moon is in Venus and Saturn is rising, so it’s your season, Susan. Truth is, the stars say you two should get married during the next full moon.”

  Susan couldn’t believe the eagerness in August Jackson’s voice. “When is that?” He wanted to know.

  “Second week of February,” Grace hastened to say.

  Susan turned sharply toward August and quickly switched back to her position. That slow-moving smile seemed to take possession of his face, which was already too beguiling.

  “Do you really believe in this stuff?” he asked Susan.

  “Well, I told you that I don’t as a rule, but Aunt Grace has a flawless record. Still, even perfect people eventually make mistakes. Don’t forget Napoleon.”

  “I see.” As she got out of the taxi, she thought she heard him say, “I’ll be in touch.” Tremors continued to roll through her long after she got in her office and closed the door. What kind of a man was he? He didn’t behave as if she were a challenge as men usually did. Maybe he didn’t understand executive women. She rubbed her arms, trembling as a chill slammed up her spine. Maybe he did understand them, and maybe status didn’t bother him.

  She sat at home that evening seeing her green and blue bedroom with new eyes. The room didn’t portray an arresting quiet, a cool elegance as she had thought; it was harsh and unfeminine. She jerked herself up from the side of the bed and started toward her dressing room. Was she losing her mind?

  “Hello. Yes, this is Susan,” she said and groped for her boudoir chair. Surprised.

  “Susan, this is August. Would you see a movie with me this evening?” She had to lock her left hand over her right one to steady the phone. She hadn’t been invited to a movie in seven years.

  “I…uh… Well, I don’t know. This evening?”

  “Yeah. Throw on a pair of jeans or something, and I’ll pick you up at about eight. Okay?”

  “Jeans? August, I don’t have any jeans. I… Well, I never have an occasion to dress that casual.” She thought for a moment. “I could put on a pants suit, but it’s wool crepe.” She wondered what he’d think of her. It had never occurred to her to buy a pair of blue jeans.

  “Never mind, wear whatever you like; that pretty blue suit, maybe. I’ll put on a business suit. Will you come with me?” He spoke so softly, so gently in his deep and lilting southern drawl that she could have listened to him forever.

  “Okay, I will. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?” She knew the minute the words left her mouth that she shouldn’t have said them.

  “Susan, I’ll call for you. What is your apartment number?” She told him.

  “I guess I’ll never overcome my small town, southern upbringing, Susan, but I can’t think of an occasion when I’d ask you to meet me somewhere. I’ll be there around eight, and we can make the nine o’clock.”

  A movie date. What did people do on movie dates? She knew how to act at the opera and at such four-star restaurants as Twenty-one, but the movies. Well, he’d said wear the blue suit. She put it on and answered the door minutes later.

  “You must have been around the corner when you called me.”

  “Hi. You look pretty. I was a few blocks away. Ready to go?”

  She got her coat and would have put it on, but he took it and helped her into it. Somehow, he didn’t make her feel helpless the way most men did when they took over; he made it seem natural.

  “When did you buy the tickets?” she asked as he presented them to the usher.

  “Soon as I called you. I didn’t want you to stand in that long line because it’s cold.”

  “Thanks,” she felt compelled to say. “You’re very considerate.”

  He stopped in the lobby. “Two bags of popcorn, please, and make that lots of butter.”

  “That’s fattening,” she protested, her voice suggesting the horror of it.

  “You’re nice and slim, so what’s the problem?” he said, regarding her appreciatively.

  “And I hope to stay that way, too.” That’s the trouble with men, she thought; they like you one way and are always trying to make you into something else.

  “Forever?” August asked, his expression suggesting that the idea was ludicrous. “You’re supposed to develop a little contentment around the middle as you grow older.” He sampled some popcorn. “Hmm, this is good.”

  Susan couldn’t believe what she heard. The men she knew wouldn’t look twice at anything larger than a size twelve and then only if most of that was in the bra.

  “You couldn’t be serious,” she said, a tone of incredulity shrouding her voice.

  “Of course, I am. All this New York City fixation on skinny is ridiculous.”

  Appalled, she asked him, “You don’t like the way I look?”

  “Sweetheart, you are definitely not skinny. It’s all exactly where it’s supposed to be.” He handed her a bag of popcorn and enveloped her other hand in his big one. “Come on. Let’s get our seats.” She felt a little strange when August released her hand while helping her to her seat, and she got a shock when she realized that she wanted him to hold it. He could have been reading her wishes, because he obliged her immediately, locking the fingers of his right hand through those of her left one. Don’t give in to him, she pleaded with herself.

  “How am I supposed to eat this bag of calories if you’re holding my hand?”

  He squeezed gently. “Maybe I could hold both our bags between my knees. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this hand.”

  Exasperated, she fumbled for words. “You…oh, you’re…” She couldn’t even convince herself.

  “What? I’m what?” Susan released a deep breath and k
new she was about to give in.

  “Different, I guess.”

  The beginning of his slow smile unnerved her, and she locked her gaze on the movie screen. Halfway through the movie, she dipped her hand into an empty bag.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Here. Have some of mine.”

  He’d never know how grateful she was that he couldn’t see her face. She couldn’t remember when she’d last enjoyed anything as much as she had that high-calorie popcorn. I’m too comfortable with him, she thought, as delicious shivers snaked through her when he locked their fingers again. This wasn’t like her; she was sensible. She tried without success to withdraw her hand.

  “I need my hand,” she told him, half hoping that he would ignore her. And he did.

  “No, you don’t. You’re supposed to hold hands in the movies. It’s one of the reasons why you go.” Now she wished for light so that he could see the look of incredulity that she knew blazed across her face.

  “You’re putting me on,” she said, but she wasn’t certain of her ground, because very little of her life had been spent in a movie theater and almost none of that with a member of the opposite sex.

  “I should have taken you to a horror movie,” he went on, confusing her further. “And before you ask why, that’s because if you got scared enough you’d be glad to hold onto me. Girls have been known to crawl all over guys when Godzilla pops up on the screen. You see, you’re already scared.”

  “Why do you think I’d do that? I can look after—”

  He interrupted her, obviously enjoying himself. “Because you’re squeezing my fingers. Here, have some more popcorn.”

  August slid an arm around her shoulder as they stepped out of the movie, claiming that he had to keep her warm. “Want to stop for some ice cream and coffee? I know a nice little place about a block from here.”

  Ice cream and coffee. Was he from Mars? In her world, the words “would you like” were the beginning of an invitation to a drink or a visit to a guy’s apartment, and her answers always began with the word, no. The man was intriguing.

  “Okay, but make mine espresso.”

  “The ice cream or the coffee?” She stared at him; surely he wasn’t that unsophisticated. He smiled down at her and tightened his arm around her. “Just pulling your leg. You don’t know what to expect of me, and I’ve decided to reveal my secrets slowly and in small doses.” Susan laughed. She broke one of her rules of decorum and let the sound of laughter escape her. He hugged her.

  “I enjoyed the evening, August.”

  He shook his head as though reprimanding a small child. “Susan, you loved it. Come on, be honest.”

  “All right, I loved it.”

  He smiled in his usual mesmerizing way and asked for her door key. She wondered what he would do next, but the possibilities didn’t worry her, because she knew without a doubt that August Jackson was a gentleman.

  “This has been wonderful, Susan.”

  Warm anticipation increased the fluid in her mouth as the back of his index finger drifted tenderly down her cheek. She wished he’d give her a signal as to what he intended to do. A goodnight kiss was normal after a guy took a girl out, though she couldn’t swear what they did after having been to a movie. She’d let him take the lead. So she waited while his gaze roamed over her face and his smile brightened as though his pleasure increased the longer he looked at her. She couldn’t restrain a gasp when he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Didn’t he know where her mouth was?

  “I want to see you again, Susan. Truth is, I want to see you a lot. What do you say?”

  She fidgeted, something she’d taught herself to stop doing when she joined the law firm.

  “August, I told you, I don’t like…”

  “Shh. I’m not going to court you, because I know you don’t like it.”

  “Then what do you call seeing me, as you put it?” His deep sigh suggested that she had completely misunderstood him.

  “Just spending a little time together. What do you say?”

  She wanted to be with him. She couldn’t remember when she had been so relaxed, so completely unwound. She hadn’t thought once of the office…horrified, she realized that she couldn’t remember which case she was to present in the senior staff meeting the next morning. She’d gotten so carried away with him that she’d practically forgotten who she was. She’d better break it off right now, before she cultivated a taste for this man—if indeed, she hadn’t already done that. But he let her know that he had other thoughts about their relationship.

  “I’d like to show you something, Susan.”

  “What?” She hoped she hadn’t sounded as eager to him as she did to herself.

  “Heaven from the back of a horse.”

  She could relax; horseback riding in winter held no fascination.

  “I’ve already seen things from the back of a horse, August.”

  “But not heaven. I’d bet anything that only I can show that to you.”

  She couldn’t decide whether he was egotistic or naive, but she suspected that it wasn’t the latter. Trouble was, he didn’t appear to be too involved with himself, either. So what was he?

  “Would you kindly define heaven for me,” she asked, deciding to play along.

  “It’s hills lightly covered with snow and evergreen pines that sparkle with white, cloudlike crests and sun rays that take on hundreds of hues dancing against the pines; icicles trying to find their way to earth, stymied by the frosty breeze, and lighting your way at sundown; squirrels and chipmunks frolicking around the tree trunks; an occasional, lonely leaf that whispers a love song as you pass; and not a track in the pristine snow until your horse puts one there. It’s all that and just the two of us. You can’t prove to me that it wouldn’t be heaven.”

  She stared, tongue-tied. Bewitched.

  “You’re nodding your head. Does that mean you’ll go with me?”

  She nodded again. How unpredictable he was and how wonderful. Where could a person find a pair of jodhpurs on such short notice? Barney’s, maybe.

  A light snow fell as they took the horses over a trail in Harriman State Park. The scene was all that he had promised and more. So much more. Scattered snow flurries floated down around them, adding allure to the fairyland setting. The stillness, the enchanting quiet gave them a world of their own. A restful, spiritually renewing world—the antithesis of stressful boardrooms, cutthroat competition, crowded streets and blaring traffic. A doe with her young fawn stared as they passed, and stepped forward as though to greet them. She glimpsed a squirrel as it hustled up the trunk of a great oak carrying its treasure of acorns in its mouth and thought, how free and happy it seems.

  August had been mostly silent while they rode, but she hadn’t felt the need for conversation. And she didn’t remember ever having experienced the sense of oneness with another person that she enjoyed with August that morning. He had an almost magical way of lulling her into contentment, of giving her a sense of completeness. She looked over at him astride the big bay and smiled when she found him looking at her. His lips smiled first, then his cheeks seemed to bloom and, finally, his eyes sparkled. He might as well have kissed her. She wrung her gaze from his when she realized that she could stay with him forever. They took the horses back to the stables, got into the car that August had rented, and drove back to the city.

  They stood at her apartment door, and she knew he didn’t want to leave her. She knew, too, that she didn’t want him to go.

  “I found a theater that’s showing Godzilla tonight. How about it?”

  She had to laugh. This was courting; even she knew that, and she’d never done any of it.

  “I have some work to do tonight.” It was true but, as she looked at him, anxiously awaiting her answer, she thought, oh what the heck.

  “Okay, I’ll go, but I am not going to make a habit of going places with you.”

  He grinned. “All right. I won’t expect you to. This isn’t a steady thing. We�
��ll negotiate it each time.” She shook her head in amazement. He behaved as if nothing was complicated, but she didn’t plan to be taken in by his easy, laid-back manner. “You going?” he urged.

  “Okay. I’m crazy, but I’ll go.”

  She hadn’t ever seen a horror movie and, at the monster’s first appearance, a scream escaped her throat that would have rivaled the best efforts of a great coloratura soprano. August immediately slipped an arm around her, but that was soon insufficient protection, for the monster threatened to leave the screen and leap into the audience. Not even the richly buttered popcorn held an interest as she dealt with her fears. The beast roared and she couldn’t help clutching August with both hands. Thank God, he didn’t seem to mind, but gave himself over to the task of banishing her consternation.

  “Do you want to leave, honey?” Godzilla overturned a dozen cars, and she couldn’t speak. She tugged him closer.

  “Do you?” he asked again. She came to her senses; it wouldn’t be ladylike to spoil the evening for him, especially since he obviously loved the monster. But scared as she was, she couldn’t walk away from the thrill of it.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the end of it.”

  “But you haven’t even eaten your popcorn. I don’t want you to be miserable, and you must be if you barely opened the bag.”

  She reached into the bag and brought a few kernels toward her mouth just as the monster’s claws whirled something or someone into the air. She screamed and buried her face in August’s strong, protective shoulder. The movie ended, and they walked out into the chilly air.

  “Oh, August, it was wonderful,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed anything so much. It was just smashing.” She offered him some popcorn, but he shook his head.

  “Are you serious? You enjoyed that movie?”

  “Why, yes. I could go back in there right now. It was fabulous.”

  “But you were scared to death the whole time. I thought you might cry.”

  “Sure I was scared, but it was such fun.”

  He stared at her. “Well, I’ll be doggone.”