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  “I was afraid that I’d miss you,” he answered simply, straightening with a grimace.

  “Come on inside,” Carrie directed. “You can have some coffee while I make the call.”

  He followed her as dutifully as one of her students, seemingly chastened by his recent experiences. Once seated in her kitchen he accepted the cup of coffee she gave him in grateful silence, listening as she arranged for the sub to take over for her. When she hung up the phone she said to him, “Would you like something to eat?”

  He nodded. “Last meal I had was breakfast yesterday.”

  “Yes, as I recall we missed dinner,” Carrie said sarcastically, but dropped it when she saw the look on his face. Something was really bothering him and it was more than her refusal to admit him the previous night.

  She scrambled eggs and made toast as he watched, his arms folded on the tabletop. She put the food on a plate and handed it to him. He ate methodically, and when he finished he looked up and lit a cigarette.

  “Thanks,” he said shortly. “I feel better.”

  “Let me put some antiseptic on those cuts,” Carrie said, going to the cabinet for a bottle of alcohol.

  “Carrie, any microbes attacking me have had enough time for a fiesta already,” he said wearily.

  “Humor me,” she replied, swabbing his wounds with disinfectant. “You are a sight,” she concluded, capping the bottle and putting it down.

  “You should see the other guy,” he responded with a weak smile.

  “I’m glad I didn’t,” Carrie said. “Would you like to take a shower?”

  He exhaled a stream of smoke and put his cigarette out quickly. “I sure would. I feel like last week’s laundry.”

  Carrie took him upstairs and showed him where everything was, then went back to the kitchen. She had a second cup of coffee, wondering what the morning would bring. She listened to the rush of water in the old pipes and waited for him to return.

  He came back down the stairs briskly, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. Still dressed in his tuxedo pants and the pleated shirt, he had rolled up the sleeves of the latter and left the top buttons undone. The golden skin of his neck and chest showed at the vee, along with a clutch of brown hairs. Even his cuts looked better, almost invisible.

  Jason sat across from her and lit another cigarette. He dragged on it deeply and then said, “Why wouldn’t you let me in last night?”

  “You were in a rage, Jason. I didn’t know what would happen.”

  “You thought I would hurt you?” he asked in an incredulous tone that made her regret her words. She looked away. When she looked back at him she saw that his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  “I’ll go,” he mumbled, pushing back the chair and standing up defeatedly. Carrie was at his side in an instant.

  “I didn’t think you would hurt me, Jason,” she said. “I was just upset at the way you behaved. Please stay. I want to hear what you have to say.”

  He brushed the back of his arm across his eyes. “I’m sorry I caused such a commotion last night, at the party and back here too,” he said heavily. “I wouldn’t have broken the door down. I was just desperate, Carrie. I thought I had lost you.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” she prodded gently.

  “You may be sorry that I told you after you hear it,” he answered dully.

  “Go on.”

  He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, opening them again and looking directly at her.

  “The man I fought last night was Louise’s lover. One of many but the last as far as I know. He was with her the day she died.”

  Chapter 8

  Carrie sat motionless with surprise, unable to frame a reply. She watched as he took another cigarette from the packet and lit it from the end of the last one, not meeting her eyes.

  “At the time Louise died,” he finally went on, “I was about to sue her for divorce on the grounds of adultery.”

  “I thought you loved her,” Carrie whispered.

  “I did, in the beginning.” He inhaled until the tip of the cigarette glowed, then exhaled through barely parted lips. “But she flung my feelings back in my face. She was promiscuous throughout our marriage. I knew she was beautiful when we met, but I didn’t know that she needed constant reassurance of that fact from almost every man she came across. It became clear very soon that our ideas of married life were quite different.”

  He stopped, looked into Carrie’s eyes and then away. “I can see that my little story isn’t exactly what you were anticipating,” he said bitterly. “Should I go on?”

  Carrie straightened her shoulders and assumed a carefully blank expression. “Please.”

  Jason got up and began to pace the narrow kitchen like a panther in an exhibition cage. His agitation was painful to watch; Carrie could only imagine what it was costing him to tell her these intimate, heartbreaking details.

  “Louise conceived Johnny quickly, hated pregnancy, and informed me that there would be no more children. After he was born I tried to get her to seek help, then tried to ignore her activities for his sake. But it proved impossible. I no longer shared her bed but many others did. Oh, she was discreet, I’ll give her that. She would go to New York so as not to embarrass me locally. But she was a good mother to Johnny and she always held that over my head. Think what it would do to him if we divorced, think how he would miss his mother. But finally even that began to wear thin. We had separate rooms, separate lives, and I wanted it over for good. I felt I deserved some kind of life too, and as long as I was married I wasn’t going to sneak around with women on the side.”

  Jason stopped walking and leaned against the counter, tapping ash into the disposal. He folded one arm across his chest and lifted the cigarette to his mouth with the other.

  “The day I found her with Miller was the day I knew I had to end it. She had always gone out of town before, but that time she had him in my house, where my son lived, where he might walk in on them as I did. I threw Miller out and told Louise to pack. I told her I’d take her to the airport that afternoon. She was to go to her sister’s house and stay there while she filed for divorce. She knew I meant business; I think it was the first time in her life that she was ever afraid of anybody. We picked Johnny up after school so she could say goodbye to him. We had the accident on the way to the airport.”

  “What did Miller say to you to cause the fight?” Carrie asked quietly.

  Jason’s jaw hardened, and a little muscle along its edge began to jump wildly.

  “He said that he had heard all about my heroic attempt to rescue Louise, but he figured that was a performance. I really mustn’t have tried too hard because he knew how much I wanted to get rid of her.”

  “Oh, my God,” Carrie murmured.

  “That hit home, you see, because I had wondered the same thing myself many times.”

  “Jason, no,” Carrie said, horrified.

  He faced her, his eyes tormented, the stub of the cigarette burning down between his fingers. “I wished her gone, and then all of a sudden she was.”

  “You didn’t wish her dead!”

  “It’s the same thing,” he said flatly.

  “Oh, Jason, of course it’s not. How can you even think that?” She got up and went to him, trying to take his free hand. He turned away from her.

  Carrie stood in front of him, inarticulate, longing to reassure him but unable to break through the prison of guilt he had erected for himself.

  “You fought hard to save her,” Carrie said at last, falling back on the facts. “There were witnesses, Jason. I know you did.”

  “Maybe I fought hard simply because I wanted to be free of her so badly. I had thought about it, begged for it, and suddenly it was happening as if in answer to a prayer. But she died anyway, and now it haunts me. Did I deliberately go after Johnny first, hoping that it would be too late for her? Did I really try, or as that bastard Miller said, did I just make a show of it? I don’t know. I just d
on’t know.” He shook his head.

  “Why was that awful man there at the formal?” Carrie asked him.

  Jason sighed. “He’s a figure around the area, mostly chases bored housewives, usually manages to get invited to all the events. I should have expected him to be there; I guess I just didn’t think about it. He sure didn’t miss his opportunity to get to me.” He lifted a shoulder negligently. “Maybe he did love Louise, in his way. Maybe he does think I let her die.”

  “What do you care what he thinks?” Carrie said fiercely. “He’s a terrible person to say something like that to you. I know you did the right thing.”

  Jason looked at her, smiling thinly. “Carrie, you think everyone is like you. Some people don’t care about doing the right thing.”

  There was a note of cynicism in his tone that she didn’t like. “What does that mean? I must be gullible if I believe in you?”

  He dropped his eyes. “Thank God you do,” he murmured so low she almost didn’t hear him.

  “Come into the living room and sit down,” she said, and this time he allowed her to lead him. He sat on the sofa and she curled up on the rug at his feet.

  “There’s something I don’t understand about all this,” Carrie said, when he had crushed out the butt of his last cigarette and lit another. “Why did everyone around here think you were the ideal couple?”

  Jason leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Louise was a consummate actress. She had been on the stage before we married, you know. It suited her to play the role; she had exactly what she wanted and would have gone on indefinitely as we were. She gave a performance every time we went out in public. It made me sick. Looking back on it I don’t know why I put up with it for so long. I told myself it was for Johnny’s sake, but maybe I didn’t want to admit the failure, the waste. I had made such a blunder and felt so duped, so foolish.” His hand described a futile gesture. “I had been crazy about her.” He looked into the distance, remembering a time and a feeling lost to him forever.

  “Jason, I’m so sorry,” Carrie said, realizing how inadequate it sounded.

  His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “High melodrama, right? Suitable for a vintage Bette Davis potboiler.” His voice was tainted with merciless irony.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier?” Carrie asked quietly.

  “It’s so sordid,” he said hoarsely, his shoulders tensing. “I could imagine what you would think. You’re so nice, so damned… transparent. How could you possibly understand? But I saw last night that I would have to tell you, or I would lose you. And that choice is no choice at all.”

  Carrie got up and sat next to him on the couch. “Jason, I’m not some little princess who has to be protected from everything. I know things go wrong in life and I also know that in this case it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I wish I could be sure,” he said. “I must have screwed up somehow to make her so unhappy. Why couldn’t she love me back, the way I loved her? We had everything: a beautiful home, a beautiful child, health, enough money, everything. Why did she throw all of that away to run around with a succession of strangers?”

  “Jason, she clearly had problems. In all likelihood they stemmed from things that happened to her before she met you. Did you know her well before you married?”

  He shook his head. “Not well. But I would never get to know her, really.”

  “You were young too, Jason. You couldn’t see the future.”

  “I was dazzled,” he whispered. “She was so beautiful. And that fabulous creature wanted to marry me—I was at the altar before I realized what I was doing.”

  “Then forgive yourself,” Carrie urged him. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “I made a doozie,” he answered, closing his eyes. “In the end it cost Louise her life.”

  “Louise died in an accident,” Carrie said firmly. “It had nothing to do with what went before it.”

  His eyes opened and he looked at her. “Come here, sunshine,” he said, reaching for her and stubbing out his final cigarette. She turned gratefully into his arms, relieved that he had relinquished his demons enough to seek solace with her.

  “That first night,” she said softly, “when you saw me in her nightgown, I thought you reacted the way you did because of the pain of her loss.”

  His hands tightened on her shoulders. “It was revulsion,” he said. “I should never have given you that damn thing. I wanted you so much, and then to realize you were wearing her gown... it was like my wonderful prize had come to me wrapped in garbage.”

  Carrie moved back from him and looked into his eyes. “Jason, don’t. It’s in the past. It’s over. You can’t let it haunt you for the rest of your life.” She reached up to stroke his hair, still damp from the shower, and he turned toward her seeking hands.

  “I won’t,” he whispered, his eyes closing. “Not anymore. Not if you’re with me.” His lips brushed her brow, then her cheek, then her mouth. She responded and his kisses became urgent. He had taken the chance, told her the truth, and she didn’t blame him. She still wanted him. It was a miracle.

  Carrie could tell from the quality of his embrace that he needed the confirmation of her love. She would not fail him.

  “Do you want to go upstairs?” he said in her ear, nuzzling it.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Carrie looked away when he drew back to gaze at her face.

  He sighed heavily. “Carrie, my recent behavior to the contrary, I am not entirely stupid. I know it will be your first time.”

  “You do?” she said, her expression revealing her discomfiture.

  “Yes, my innocent, I do.”

  “How?”

  He smiled roguishly and her heart melted. “When I undressed you last time you parted with each article of clothing like it was your last treasure on earth. That’s why I stopped when I did.” He flushed a little. “As you may recall it was not exactly a lack of ardor on my part that ended the evening, uh, inconclusively.”

  Carrie buried her face on his shoulder. “Oh, Jason, I do love you so. You can’t imagine how I worried I was about this,” she said.

  He pulled back to examine her face again. “Why?”

  “Well, because...I want to be sophisticated and worldly and I’m just... not,” she finished lamely.

  “Sophisticated,” he repeated, as if it were a disease. “God forbid.” He stood abruptly. “Look, Carrie, I’m not sure how to say this but bear with me.” He felt for his cigarettes, realized he had emptied the pack, and sat down again. He took both of her hands in his. “After my experience with Louise can you understand what it means to me to be the only one? I want you to value yourself as much as I value you.”

  “I don’t want to disappoint you,” she said in a small voice.

  “That isn’t possible. Darling, listen to me.” He raised her hands to his chest, cupping them against his breastbone. “Louise was a sexual athlete, an acrobat who knew every position and every technique.” Carrie dropped her eyes, embarrassed. He waited until she looked up again and then said, “But she knew nothing about love, to my deep and bitter regret. She could have learned a lot from you, Carrie. You know how to give.”

  “What a lovely thing to say,” Carrie murmured.

  “It’s the truth.” He got up, pulling her with him. “Now shall we stop talking about it and do it?” he muttered impatiently, and she had to smile.

  “Okay, Mr. McClain,” she answered, taking a step toward the stairs.

  He moved behind her and picked her up, carrying her to the second floor, making her feel like Scarlett in Rhett’s arms. Once in her room he set her on the bed and went to the large bay window. Morning sunlight poured through the filmy curtains.

  “Would you like me to close these?” he asked, reaching for the pull on the heavy fiberglass drapes.

  “Yes, please,” Carrie answered. Her shyness would only be accentuated by the cinematic illumination.
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  “If I were scripting this,” he said lightly, “I would have ordered soft moonglow and Mantovani on the stereo. Instead we have movie-set lighting and the groundskeeper raking leaves in the driveway.”

  “Did he see you last night?” Carrie said, thinking of the guard for the first time.

  Jason shook his head. “He must have thought I stayed over with you. He saw us go out together, remember?” He stepped back from the window as the drapes drew together and the room became dim. “There.” He sat next to her and took her hand. “Your fingers are freezing,” he said, chafing them between his own. “Are you scared?”

  “A little.”

  “Because I outweigh you by a hundred pounds?” he asked, teasing.

  Carrie laughed, relaxing in spite of herself. “Idiot.”

  He twined his fingers with hers. “I’m kind of nervous myself,” he confessed.

  “You?” She couldn’t believe it.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve never been with a...beginner.”

  “Oh. Never?”

  “Never,” he said dryly. “This will be a first for me, too.”

  “Good,” she replied, liking the idea of that.

  He settled back on the bed and drew her down with him. She curled up in his arms, her head on his chest.

  “So what’s new?” he said, half laughing.

  Carrie smiled, too. He was trying to ease her into it by talking trash, and she loved him for it.

  “Tell me about your first time,” she said.

  He snorted. “You don’t want to know about that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “It was a farce, Carrie. The girl was baby-sitting and we were waiting for the front door to slam the whole time. I left feeling disappointed and ashamed.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him.

  “You’re luckier than I was,” he continued. “Everyone should be in love the first time. Unfortunately, that’s not the sort of thing one can explain to a teenage boy. It takes a man to understand that.” He kissed her eyelids, then her mouth. He continued to kiss her as he released her slowly. Carrie lay back on the bed and he loomed over her, unbuttoning her blouse.