The Class Menagerie jj-4

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The Class Menagerie jj-4 Page 18

by Jill Churchill


  "Kevitch?" Shelley exclaimed.

  "I presume you only use Kane as your professional name," Jane said.

  "Yes, I never legally changed it. But I've been using Kane ever since my first art showing. Gloria was so hurt by being rejected by the Ewe Lambs. I don't mean that she killed herself over it, but it was one of many contributing factors. And she did love practical jokes." He smiled. "When Edgar told me who this group was, well — it just seemed like poetic justice."

  "I get it! That's why the jokes weren't very good ones," Shelley said. "Sorry, Gordon, but they weren't, you know. Because they were being done by somebody who didn't really have a feel for the art form. You didn't go to school with us, did you?"

  "Same school, about six years earlier."

  "Gordon!" Edgar exclaimed. "How could you!"

  "I didn't hurt anybody or damage anything. And it was fun!"

  "I meant, how could you not tell me?" Edgar clearly had his feelings hurt.

  "Because you'd have told me to be sensible and stop horsing around."

  "No, I wouldn't—"

  Mel caught Jane's eye and gestured toward the door.

  The argument was still raging and Shelley had jumped into it with both feet when Mel took Jane's hand and led her past the children and out onto the patio. They sat down on a wooden bench that encircled an old oak tree.

  "My mother would call you one smart cookie," Mel said.

  "Would she? What would you call me?"

  He leaned back against the tree. "An idiot maybe. An interfering busybody with no more sense of self-preservation than a lemming." Without looking at her, he took her hand and kneaded it between his. "Jane, you know I've seen a lot of awful things. But I swear, I've never seen anything that scared me as much as when I came in the kitchen last night and saw you sitting there covered with blood."

  "I'm sorry. I really am."

  "— and that's why I'm taking back my invitation to go to Wisconsin."

  "Oh…. I see….**.

  "No, you don't. I meant the weekend for my sake. Sexy fun and games with a little fishing and 'guy' stuff thrown in for good measure. I was being a selfish bastard."

  Jane didn't know what to say, and, for once in her life, had the wits to keep quiet.

  "So I want to start over. I'd like to take you someplace you'd like to go. New York, maybe? Take in some shows? See the Statue of Liberty? Window-shop?"

  Jane was relieved and flattered, but still faced the same problems as she had with the original invitation. "Mel, I'd like to, but I'm afraid."

  He looked at her sharply. "Afraid of me?"

  "Afraid of disappointing you. Yes, that's one of the things I'm afraid of."

  "Jane, you couldn't disappoint me if you worked at it."

  "Mel, I've been in a time capsule for nearly twenty years. I don't know anything about… about having an affair. I don't have the underwear for it," she added with a nervous laugh. "I don't remember how to dance. I've only had sex with one man in my life,

  /.Yl

  and he was a pretty unimaginative man. On top of all that, I'm too old for you."

  He was grinning. "No, I think you're probably too young for me. But I don't care. I don't like to dance and I don't judge anybody by their underwear. And I'm damned glad you're inexperienced."

  "What would I tell my kids? I've been trying to convince them that sex is only all right for married people."

  He laughed. "I'll tell you a secret, Jane. They probably don't believe you. And what you tell them is that when they are thirty-seven—"

  "Thirty-nine."

  "— thirty-nine, they can do anything they want. Les Mistrables or The Fantasticks?"

  "What?"

  "Which would you rather see?"

  Jane put her head on his shoulder and didn't say anything for a long time. Her mother-in-law would have a fit if she went away for a weekend with Mel.

  "The Fantasticks" she finally said very softly.

  Todd came hurtling through the French doors a few minutes later to tattle on his brother. "Mom, Mike says — Oh, iiiccckkk! Kissing!"

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