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"Thank you."
"I wish I were going with you," he added.
I ignored him and ran into the waiting arms of Jimmy, the waiting arms of my husband.
5
HONEYMOON HEARTACHE
EXHAUSTED, I WAS HAPPY TO LAY MY HEAD AGAINST JIMMY'S shoulder in the hotel limousine and close my eyes. I felt his fingers brush strands of my hair away from my forehead, clearing a place for him to place his warm, loving kiss. I smiled with my eyes closed.
"You look like a young woman having a wonderful dream," Jimmy whispered.
"I am," I replied, my smile widening.
"As long as I'm in it, I don't mind," he said. My eyelids fluttered open, and I looked up into his soft, dark eyes. I sensed his concern. After all, I had once fallen deeply and passionately in love with someone else and borne that man's child. Jimmy had reason to wonder if my dreams included him.
Suddenly I realized the immensity of his love for me. He had never asked me outright if I had stopped loving Michael Sutton after Michael had deserted me. He never seemed to wonder if I still thought often about Michael. He never asked. Maybe he was afraid of the answers. Maybe he knew I couldn't lie to him and deny that Michael came to my mind occasionally, especially when I held Christie in my arms.
But Jimmy was willing to put all this aside. He believed our love for each other would grow stronger and stronger with every passing day. I meant so much to him that he was willing to risk his own heart. I did love him, I thought, and that love could only grow stronger.
"You will always be in my dreams, Jimmy. Now and forever," I promised him. I lifted my head so our lips could touch, and we held a long kiss. Then I closed my eyes again and let my head fall against his chest. He held me snugly until we were nearly at the airport.
Our flight took us directly to Provincetown, at the tip of Cape Cod. From there we hired a cab to our motel, which was on the beach. It was nearly midnight when we were finally settled in our honeymoon suite, and we were both quite tired, but quite excited. Our room had a patio door that opened on a small balcony. We were only two flights up, but the unobstructed beachfront provided us with a sweeping view of the ocean. It was a clear night, with the stars blazing like diamonds on black velvet. I felt as if we were at the top of the world. Jimmy came up behind me. Sensing my thoughts, he put his arm about my shoulde
r and drew me closer.
"Happy?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, Jimmy. I feel like Alice falling into a wonderland of rainbow dreams."
Something boyishly wistful and sweet visited his eyes. "The stars seem so close," he said, and he kissed me on the cheek.
"And bright. Even when I close my eyes, I still see them!" I exclaimed. Jimmy laughed and turned me around to kiss me on the lips. "Mrs. James Gary Longchamp," he whispered, and he scooped me into his arms to bring me to the bed. He hovered above me, stroking my hair, and stared down at me.
Once before, when he had visited me at school in New York, we had gone to his hotel room and almost made love. This was before I had met Michael. Jimmy's and my memories of being brought up thinking we were brother and sister were still quite strong, and even though I had closed my eyes and had told myself over and over that we weren't blood-related and we had no reason to feel dirty wanting and loving each other, it was very hard to overcome years and years of living as siblings.
It had been the same for Jimmy, and he had decided it was too soon. Although we had hugged and kissed and petted each other affectionately, we had held off consummating our love. I knew that once we did it, we would shatter the wall that still lingered between us, a wall comprised of mistaken guilt and confusion, a wall built out of lies and deceit, a false wall that never should have been between us in the first place.
"Are you too tired?" Jimmy asked, once more providing a way for me to avoid the moment.
"No," I said, and I brought my fingers to my blouse to begin undoing the buttons.
"Let me," he said. "You can just lie there with your eyes closed, seeing those stars."
I smiled, but the moment his fingers touched the buttons, my heart began to pound. It thumped like a tin drum, and my stomach filled with feathers. Gently he peeled my blouse away and slipped it down my arms. Just as gently, almost magically, he unfastened my bra. I didn't open my eyes. I felt him move down the bed to take off my heels and slide my skirt over my legs. When he plucked my panties away I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was gazing down at me with such desire, I felt myself grow faint.
"Do you remember," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "how you would catch me from time to time watching you dressing?"
"Yes," I said, recalling the way his face would redden when I did see him looking my way.
"I couldn't help but become fascinated with the way your body changed—how your breasts blossomed and your curves became more gentle. I didn't want to look; I told myself it wasn't right, it was dirty, but you were like a magnet, and my head was like iron."
"And how you would jump if our bodies touched while we shared those sofa beds, remember?"
"Yes," he said, bringing his hands to my awaiting bosom.
He followed them with his lips. I closed my eyes and listened to the rustling of his clothing as he stripped the garments from his body. Moments later he was naked beside me, and something we had both seen in dreams, in fantasies that had made us feel guilty and evil, became real.
