Rapture

CHAPTER ONE

This business with Diane was a bizarre flourish in Jeff's life. Their sessions were trivial but vaguely worrying. Should he be carrying on like this? At his age? But maybe this was the right age for such behavior to start manifesting itself. He didn't like that thought at all. Fortunately, Diane rescued him, as she so often did.

"Honey ..."

The voice of a teenager. She was standing with her back to him, slowly tugging a pair of tight shorts up over her girlish ass. She knew he loved to watch her, especially from behind. When they were together, she spent most of her time composing herself in pictures for him. The rest of the time, they fucked.

"Hm?"

"You gonna come see me again soon?"

"Of course."

"My folks are always out, you know...."

He nodded, smiling as he tied his shoes.

"Daddy's always working," she went on in that little-girl tone, her face a mild pout. "And my mother can't stand to be around the house. She's out somewhere with her friends every day."

"I know," he said agreeably.

"They leave me all alone here...."

She had turned to face him, and now stood twirling her long blond hair idly in front of her breasts. They weren't quite as full as Jeff would have liked, but they weren't far off either, and he knew this could never be the ideal situation of his dreams.

"You know I'll be back," he told her.

"Really? Promise?"

He was nearly a foot taller, and she had to look up at him as he stood before her. She pressed her lips with her thumb like a shy, fearful child. It always amazed him how she could invest her appearance with so much vulnerability. It was strangely moving, and he knew that was what he liked most about Diane.

"Yes," he said. "I promise."

She smiled sweetly. Now he could go. She pulled on a T-shirt and accompanied him to the door. He gave her a long, lingering kiss.

"You won't tell your parents?" he asked.

"Not if you come back."

"You got me."

He winked, and left. Traffic was light at this hour, and he was soon out of Los Angeles, heading into Ventura County. How lucky he'd been to find Diane! None of his previous attempts had worked out the way he had hoped. Diane was an angel. A real find, no question.

Still, he told himself a moment later, the whole thing was really rather silly. He turned on the radio so he wouldn't have to think about it any more.

His telephone was ringing when he unlocked the door of his condominium. Odd-not just because of the hour, but because he rarely received calls at home.

"Hello?"

"Jeff? Is that you?"

The voice was old and somewhat frail. He hadn't heard it in several years, but he knew it at once. He grasped the situation at once. A scenario he had run through his mind many times over the years was now, finally, about to be played out. He was ready for it.

"Yes, Kitty, it's me."

"Goodness, it sounds like you're just across the street," his aunt exclaimed.

"How are you?" he asked, smiling.

"Jeff, I'm sorry to call so late, but I've been trying to get you all evening and-"

"I was out," Jeff interrupted. "In fact, I just came in the door this minute."

"Jeff, I'm afraid I have some bad news to tell you...."

She was obviously quite uncomfortable at having to use the telephone for this task.

"That's all right, Aunt Kitty," Jeff said, trying to make it a little easier for her. "I expected it sooner or later."

"Yes ... Your father ...

"I know. I understand."

"His heart..."

They talked a while longer, and then Uncle Roy managed to get on the line and exchange a few words. He wanted to assure Jeff that he would make all the necessary arrangements for the wake and the funeral.

"Will you...uh...?"

"I'll be on the first plane I can get in the morning," Jeff said, wondering if they really thought he might pass up his own father's burial.

Jeff reserved a seat on an early flight. Then he dialed a number in Van Nuys. Ted Benedictus, groggy with sleep, was soon alert and concerned as Jeff explained the situation.

The only alcohol in the house was half a bottle of Scotch that Jeff hadn't touched in ages. Now he poured a large measure into a glass with some ice. He smoked a cigarette, drank, and thought.

He hadn't been home in-what was it?-seven or eight years. His whole life was here now, in California. But his past, or at least the most important part of it, was there, on the other side of the country. He felt eager and excited about going back.

And the best part of it was that Jeff had spent the last several hours thinking about Georgianne.

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