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After the Loving

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Год написания книги
2019
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“I’d love to go, Russ.”

No silliness such as “if you’re sure you don’t mind” or “if it won’t inconvenience you.” Straight from the shoulder. She wanted to go with him, and she didn’t mind letting him know it. Another point in her favor. He liked a woman who let a man know what she wanted.

He took her hand. “Come on. I’ll tell Drake you’ll be home later.”

“Way to go, man,” Drake said, his voice well contained. “It’s the simple things that count—they can make you or break you.”

“Yeah. It’s easy to forget that.”

“Would you like me to get a vase for your flowers?” Russ asked Velma.

“Thanks, but each stem is in its own little water cup.” She gazed up at him. “You’re a thoughtful man, and it’s something I appreciate.”

He didn’t know what to make of that statement, so he let it go. Fortunately Telford and Alexis appeared, having changed into traveling clothes. To his amazement, neither of them seemed surprised to see Velma with him.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get this show moving. If we waste another minute, I’ll have to drive ninety miles an hour in order to get you to the airport on time.”

“Don’t tax yourself, brother,” Telford said. “I can get us there driving fifty-five or sixty, so if you’d rather I drove…”

Russ couldn’t help laughing. “All right. All right.” He buckled Velma’s seat belt. “You two buckle up back there.” He ignited the engine and headed for Route 70. He didn’t feel the need to talk; most any subject would take him down from where he was. He didn’t want anything to blight his mood. How many times had he feared Telford would let Alexis slip through his hands? It took him a long time to concede Drake’s point, that Telford was a different man when he was in Alexis’s company, that he had never known Telford to be truly happy until he fell in love with Alexis and Tara. It was an incontestable truth; they belonged together.

He glanced at Velma, who sat beside him serenely with her hands relaxed and the bouquet lying in her lap. “Thank God, she doesn’t feel the need to chatter,” he said to himself. He flipped on the radio and out came the strains of “Will You Dance This Waltz With Me?” As if of its own volition, his head turned toward Velma and, at the same time, she looked toward him. A grin formed around her lips, and then she laughed. He didn’t ask her why she laughed, because he knew. It was the reason why he also laughed. They could duck it as much and as often as they liked, but something would always remind them.

“I won’t ask what the two of you are laughing about,” Telford said.

“Oh, you can ask,” Russ replied, “but it won’t do you much good.”

“What if I ask?” Alexis put in.

“Won’t do you any good either,” Velma said.

That wasn’t the first notice she had given that she would support him, that she’d be there for him if he needed her. He recorded it in his mental notebook. A long-term arrangement with her wasn’t on his agenda, but he had to reckon with it because her attraction for him was nothing to gainsay. He wanted her, but he wasn’t sure he was willing to pay the price.

“You’re here with twenty minutes to spare,” he said to Telford when they reached the Baltimore International Airport.

“What was his top speed, Velma?” Telford asked.

“My lips are sealed. You two have the time of your lives.”

“We’ll do our best,” Alexis said.

“Thanks, brother, for everything. I’ll finish thanking you when we get back.”

Driving away from the airport, Russ found himself thinking of a way to end what, for him, had been a perfect day. “We’ve got about an hour and forty-minute drive ahead of us, Velma. Would you like to stop somewhere for some kind of beverage and a snack? I don’t drink anything alcoholic when I have to drive, but I could use some iced tea or a soft drink.”

“I’d love to stop,” she said. “Anyplace where this evening dress won’t look silly.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “No matter where we stop, your dress won’t look a bit sillier than this tux with mauve-colored accessories.”

She seemed disappointed, but she was good at bluffing, he saw, when she lifted her chin and said, “I remember you said you liked this gown I’m wearing. Well, it’s mauve, too.”

“I like it on you.”

She didn’t let him drop it. “It’s not more outlandish than the brilliant red or royal blue accessories that some men wear with formal dress. Besides, you look fantastic in that getup. I was practically ogling you when we were waiting for the bride to reach the altar.”

“Really? Thanks for the compliment.” He knew she’d stood there cataloging his assets until he caught her at it and looked her straight in the eye, but he didn’t think she’d be comfortable knowing he was aware of her uninhibited admiration.

“What do you say we stop at the first drive-in restaurant on Route 70? Give ’em something to talk about in there.”

“Fine with me.”

A groan escaped him when he saw the long line. “You have a seat somewhere,” she said. “I’ll get what you want, and we’ll be out of here in twenty minutes.”

He stared at her. “I’d like to know how you plan to manage that.”

“Have a seat and you’ll see.”

He took out his wallet and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “I’d like a huge bottle of ginger ale and a blueberry muffin.” She saluted him, and he went to find a table, praying that he wouldn’t have to spring her from jail. In less than five minutes, she arrived at the table he chose holding her bouquet as if it were a baby, and followed by a busboy who carried their order. The busboy took the food off the tray and placed it on the table. Russ handed the man a five-dollar bill and thanked him.

“No problem, sir. Congratulations and much happiness.”

“What was he…?” He stared at Velma who was near convulsion with suppressed laughter. “How did you…?”

“I just went to the busboy and told him we were already late for the wedding. People heard me and it was like the opening of the Red Sea. They assumed I was the bride. The busboy ran behind the counter and collected what I wanted, took it to the cashier, I paid, and you know the rest. Here’s your change.”

When he could get his breath, he said, “Well, hell,” opened a bottle of ginger ale and was about to pour some in a glass for her when the humor of it struck him. He slumped in the chair and gave in to the laughter that rolled out of him. He knew that everybody in the restaurant was looking at them, but that seemed to make it all the funnier.

When they managed to control their laughter, he found her staring at him. “What is it? Did I get some blueberries on my teeth?”

“I never knew you to laugh like this. It is wonderful. Just…just wonderful.”

He sobered then. “Drake likes to call me ‘old sourpuss.’ Is that what you think of me?”

“That hadn’t occurred to me. In this context, I think of you as a serious-minded man who has a low tolerance for nonsense.” She lowered her head a little, and stole a glance at him. “Russ, I’ve been called a prankster, and I suppose you’d classify that as nonsense.”

“Most of it is nonsense, but if it’s witty, if it’s clever, that’s different—then it’s a challenge. However, that’s not an invitation for you to—”

She held up her right hand. “I know. I stand sufficiently warned. Still…” She let him wait for her next words, and he found himself anticipating them with heightened pleasure. “Uh…I can’t imagine myself not going to great lengths, if necessary, to make you laugh.”

“Yeah. A prankster would do that.” He pondered her words, but didn’t wonder why she enjoyed seeing him laugh. As frank as he was finding her to be, she’d probably tell him without any prompting.

Nonetheless, it gave him something to contemplate. “I never thought much about my personality or how it strikes others,” he said. “It’s who I am, and I can’t see myself pretending to be what I am not.”

Her left hand moved toward him, and he thought she would reach for his hand or, at least, touch it. But she almost snatched it back, and he realized that what he’d thought was insecurity could well be an uncertainty as to how to relate to him.

“Velma, I find that it never pays to try to figure out a person.”

“You think I’m trying to figure you out?”
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